National Treasure: Page 47
by A113
Summary: Chris is a fan of the Templar and Cíbola Treasures, and the Book of Secrets. He decides to check it out, and use the secrets to fix the world, but ends up using it for himself. Can Ben and the others stop Chris from taking over the world? Read to find out
1. Introduction

_**National Treasure: Page 47**_

_The year is 2010. In this story, Christopher Roland, a high school grad, learns about President Steven Bovert's Book of Secrets, and tries to find it so he can fix the world's problems, but as he keeps finding treasure and becomes famous, he decides to try to take over the world. It is up to the treasure hunters Ben, Riley, Abigail, Patrick, Emily, and Steve, to stop Christopher before it's too late. Can they stop him? You'll have to read to find out._

--

The famous treasure hunter Benjamin Gates and the other discoverers Riley, Abigail, Patrick, and Emily, and President Steven Bovert, had just arrived at the just completed Cíbola National Historic Site. Among the crowd of tourists and archaeologists was 19-year-old Christopher Roland, a high school graduate who was a big fan of the Templar and Cíbola treasures. He had read through _The Templar Treasure_ by Riley Poole many times before, wondering if the conspiracy theories were real or not. After the discovery of Cíbola, he couldn't wait to meet the discoverers themselves and get his hands on a copy of Mr. Poole's next book _Long Lost Cíbola_, which he would hopefully buy today, if the crowd wasn't too desperate for it.

Ben stepped up to a podium along with the President, and spoke into a microphone once the crowd had calmed down.

"Good evening," Ben began. "When I my friends and I started looking for Cíbola, we started out only trying to prove that my great-great-grandfather was not a culprit of the Lincoln assassination. In the process, we went through nearly every experience, from being ticketed by the French, to being nearly arrested by the British; from sneaking into the President's Oval Office, to kidnapping the President himself." He said to the President beside him, "I'm still sorry about that, Dr. Bovert."

"It's all good," he replied.

"In short," turning back to the crowd, "We did everything we could to clear Thomas Gates's name, and although we lost one of this country's greatest explorers, we got this stunning city of gold in the process. I am delighted to see the opening of this Historic Site so that this treasure is, in a way, given back to the true owners of it, the American people. Thank you."

The crowd applauded. It was now President Bovert's turn to speak.

"Thank you, Mr. Gates…"

"W-w-wait, wait, Sir, I'm sorry, but may I?"

"Absolutely." The President stepped back.

"And my friend Riley Poole has just reminded me that he will be signing copies of his new book _Long Lost Cíbola_ at the gift shop, so if you're interested, then, well, you know where to find him." Ben stepped back down, and the President took his turn.

"Thank you _once more_, Mr. Gates." The audience laughed. "This is a wonderful addition to the many parks and memorials in America. At first, I, like many of you, thought the city of gold was only another myth. But then, after Ben told me about how it had to be real, I remembered that this treasure was the reason that many explorers settled this land in the first place. At first, I didn't believe that even Mr. Gates could find it, but no one believed Amerigo that the world was round, either. But after Amerigo, Columbus, Magellan, and NASA proved Amerigo's theory, it was clear; but the proof came at an incredible cost, including many lives. I realized that if I didn't believe Ben and didn't give him access to my secret book, finding Cíbola might have never been found. I and many others have learned a lesson; to believe something reasonable is wise, even without proof. And, boy, I'm glad I did, because now we have a beautiful contribution to the history of this great country, for all to see and for all to enjoy. Thank you."

The crowd applauded. Dr. Bomar, the Director, stepped out and provided information about the site, and the gates were opened. While most of the crowd went into the museum, or to keep photographing Cíbola, Chris headed straight for the gift shop.


	2. The Cíbola Gift Shop

Chris was the first person in the gift shop (other than the cashier, of course), and got there even before Mr. Poole arrived to sign copies. While he was waiting, he started reading the book's introduction. After a few minutes of reading, Mr. Poole stepped in.

"Good evening, sir," he said to Chris.

Chris, half-startled, half-excited, turned around to see who it was. "Good evening, Mr. Poole," he replied.

"Oh," Riley laughed, "it's Riley." He sat down in the chair prepared for him. The first tourists were coming into the shop.

"You're signing copies?"

Riley just smiled and nodded.

"I'll take this one, then," said Chris, handing Riley the book he was reading.

"It'd be a pleasure, um…"

"Christopher Roland, sir."

"Mr. Roland. Let's see, 'To Christopher, lo…', is 'Love, Riley' okay?"

There was a long pause of confusion. "Whatever, Mr. P…Riley."

"Okay, 'To Christopher, lo…', how about 'from'?"

"Sure."

"'To Christopher, from Riley.' There you are." Riley handed him the book. "I hope you enjoy it."

"Thank you. I will. _The Templar Treasure_ was a very interesting read, by the way."

"Oh. Nice."

"Did you really break into the XY section of the…"

"Yes, I did."

"Well, how come you're not in jail?"

"Oh, you see, after the treasure was found, Ben, Ms. Chase, and I were eventually questioned by the FBI, who were going to arrest us after the President tattletaled on us, but Mr. Bovert gave us a presidential pardon, so we're all okey-dokey."

"Oh, I see. But…"

"Excuse me, sir, but you're holding up the line," a person behind him said. Chris saw that a line of people had formed while he was talking with Riley.

"Mr. Roland, mind if we talk later? What city do you live in?"

"Oh, that'd be great, Riley. I'm looking for an apartment in Detroit, but in the meantime I'm living with my sister in Charlottesville, Virginia. If you want, you can email me at ya soon!"

"Okay. I'll…try…to…"

The next person in line came up for Riley to sign her copy of his book.


	3. Was There?

While Riley was signing copies of his book, Ben and Abigail were talking with the President.

"Now you know about Riley's book, right?" Ben asked.

"What about it?" asked the President.

"He's written about our hunt for Cíbola in great detail. Have you found a new hiding place for the Book?"

"Riley's book?"

"No, your book."

The President grinned. "I've never written a book."

"Oh." Ben got it.

"Hopefully Mr. Poole didn't tell on you guys, did he?"

"No," said Abigail, "we helped him find a way around that.

"Thank you. Now, Ben, in case you need to contact me, my secret email is…" and the President whispered the address into Ben's ear.

Ben nearly laughed.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, my family's waiting for me. Thank you for the meeting, it's been a pleasure." And the President left to join his family, who were about to start the tour without him.

Abigail turned to Ben. "I thought you told Riley he could make the call on the finder's fee."

"It was a joke," replied Ben.

"I see. Come on, let's check out Mount Rushmore."

"But I want to stay here."

"Yes, but there are too many people here."

"Aha…no." Ben smiled, and left to go into the museum.

"Oh, Mr. Gates." and Abigail went after him.

Patrick and Emily were giving an interview to _TIME Magazine_, and Riley had already sold 20 copies of his book. Chris was touring the museum and taking pictures of Cíbola. It was amazing that someone had actually found it, and that someone actually built it. He wondered how one person could consecutively find two of the largest treasures in history. "How does Ben do it?" he thought. A tourist passing by him whispered, "He knows his history."

That was it. Chris knew history well, too, but not nearly as well as Ben did. Although he wasn't as educated as Ben (he had just gotten out of high school), he'd love to help him and his team find their next treasure. If only there was another treasure. Was there?

Was there?

Let's see…the Fountain of Youth. No, it's just a legend. Then again, the Templar and Cíbola Treasures also started out as legends. Was there really a Fountain of Youth? Was there?

What about the remaining cities of gold? If Cíbola existed, surely the other six are somewhere around here. But are there? Was there?

The Ark of the Covenant? The Holy Grail? The Crystal Skull? No, those are just silly movies. Then again, the Ark is real, but was there a possibility? Was there?

Was there?

Chris sat on a bench and started reading Riley's book.


	4. Meeting with Riley

After reading the book, Christopher was fascinated with their journey. He wondered about this _"Book of Secrets"_. What else was in there? He remembered reading about it for the first time in _The Templar Treasure_. Riley Poole mentioned in that book that the Book had information about the JFK Assassination, Area 51, Apollo 13, and the City of Gold. Why didn't they look at the other pages in the book? There might have been some answers that people have been looking for over thousands of years. If only he could check out this Book for himself – there just might be enough information in there to fix the world's problems.

"Might as well check it out for myself," he thought. "But after the publication of _Long Lost Cíbola_, the FBI must have surely advised the President to hide the book somewhere else. What's in XY234786 now, though?"

He decided if he'd just spend the time at the Historic Site reading a book, he might as well go home. He put the book in his car, and went back to check out the monument, but the thought stayed in his head.

--

A few days later, he moved in to his sister Jean's house while he looked for an apartment in Detroit, but he changed his mind, and decided to try to get a place here in Charlottesville.

The next day, April 18, he got an email from Riley. It read:

--

**From:** Riley Poole

**To:**

**Subject:** Cíbola National Historic Site

_Hi Chris,_

_This Riley Poole, uthor of _Lost Long Cíbola_. I hope you liked the book. Just so you know, I'm taking FAQs on my new book'swebsite ____. If you'd like to ask a few questions yourself, you are more than welcome. If you'd like to talk, we can set up an appointment. I could come to Charlottesville for a while, or you could could meet me in Wasington. ;-)_

_Until later,_

_Mr. Riley Pooe_

--

Chris replied:

--

**From:** Christopher Roland

**To:** Riley Poole

**Subject:** Re: Cíbola National Historic Site

_Hi Riley,_

_This is Chris. Just a side-note, you might want to run your spell check next time. ;-) Anyway, I can make out to Washington; is the Library of Congress on May 1 okay?_

_-Christopher Roland_

--

Riley accepted, and they met at the Library of Congress on Saturday, May 2. It took a few minutes for them to find each other, but they finally found each other.

"Oh, good morning, Mr. Poole…Riley," said Christopher when they discovered each other.

"Hello, Mr. Roland," replied Riley.

"Well, if you have the time, I've reserved Meeting Room 113?"

"Of course." They moved into the meeting room so as not to disturb the readers in the library.

Christopher started the conversation. "Where did you first hear of the Book of Secrets?"

"Well," started Riley, "if you've read my first book, there was this conspiracy theory that started who-knows-when, and there wasn't much evidence for it until this mysterious symbol appeared in 1966: The eagle clutching a scroll. What else could it mean but the Book of Secrets?"

"Uh-huh. Now, what else did you read in the Book other than Coolidge's find?"

"Well, Ben, being the big boss, didn't bother with it because he was in a rush. But some things I did see were on Area 51, Nevada, and the JFK killing."

"Could you make out any words?"

"Unfortunately, not one."

"Well, I read in your book that George Washington started this tradition. But where do the Presidents get this information?"

"Well, only the appropriate sources that only the President of the United States would have access to, I guess. I'd also guess that the Secret Service and the FBI could have something to do with much of it. Why would you want to know?"

"Well, I'm a conspiracy theorist myself, and that's the main reason I bought your book. See, I find myths that could turn out to be a good thing extremely interesting. I don't know why there are no government organizations set out to investigate these things."

"Well, the FBI tries their best to stop people from having that kind of fun."

"Well, can we check it out?"

"What? The Book?"

Chris nodded. Riley laughed, and shook his head.

"I can't show you the location of the book," he said, "And the President's got a new hiding place for it already. And I don't even know if it's even legal to look at that sort of information."

"I understand. Our President's not stupid/"

"However, I can show you something in the reading room."

"Let's check it out."

Riley took Chris to the main reading room of the Library of Congress, and showed him the balcony where the XY books were located.

"Wow," Chris said, when he had nothing else to say.

"I know; wow," said Riley. "Well, it was a pleasure meeting you."

"Nice to meet you, too. Thank you for the talk." They shook hands.

"You're welcome. Now, I gotta go, but it'd be great if you could contact me about writing for my website."

"Absolutely, sir."

"Well, bye then."

"Bye."

"Oh, one more thing, Chris."

"Yes?"

"I'll give you a free copy of my next book after Ben finds the Fountain of Youth, okay?"

Chris smiled, "Thank you."


	5. Jean's Scheme

Chris told Jean about his meeting with Riley.

"Oh, you and those books," she sarcastically replied. "Must've been a dream come true for you."

"Well, more like half a dream come true. I didn't _really_ get to see the Book."

"Well, it's most not there anymore anyway, but it doesn't hurt to look."

"Well, there could be some extremely useful stuff in there. Possibly not only answers to conspiracy theories, but maybe solutions to world problems like hunger, global warming, et cetera."

"Yes, but wouldn't you think that if stuff like that were in the book, those supposed 'answers' would have been already found by Presidents and used up already, or at most rejected by the Senate or House."

"Huh?"

"Never mind. I'm just saying, it doesn't hurt to look."

"Well, I supposed you're right, given the kind of information we might need from it."

There was a pause.

"Okay, Chris, here's what I mean: Maybe we, the two of us, should go up to that balcony and check out that room for ourselves."

"Actually, that's not a bad idea…and how do you plan on getting up there?"

"Well, when the Library's closed, of course."

"Does it ever close? And also, wouldn't there be enough guards in a Washington, D.C. building of that much importance?"

"We could sneak in."

"Just wait a minute, here, Jean! You know you're planning a criminal act?"

"And you think there's a legal way to check out the book."

"Okay, fine, here's the deal: You go get the book, **by yourself**, and if you succeed, bring it to me, unharmed, okay? This way, I won't get caught or arrested, and if you get caught, or arrested, that should teach you a lesson. Okay?"

She laughed. "You want me to go to jail?"

"Only if you don't succeed. If you do succeed, then you deserve to get away. If you get caught, you deserve to be arrested. And why am I not going? Because I don't think it's legal. Okay?"

"Well, okay, but what happens if I'm caught?"

"The point is to not get caught."

"I understand, but my plan's gonna have to be really good."

"No. **Our** plan **is** going to be good."

The two of them worked on a scheme that would get Jean to sneak into the Library of Congress after closing hours, and check out the Book of Secrets, and if it was still there, she would bring it to Chris, who would give Jean the first treasure he _might_ find with it. Planning the scheme involved one trip to the Library itself. On May 15, they enacted their plan. Chris stayed in Charlottesville while he sent Jean to Washington to "check out" the Book.

Jean came into the Library at 1:50 PM, after she had lunch.

She first called Chris at a pay phone just to say hi, and that she was going in now. Chris told her not to call him again until she came out of the Library. Jean agreed.

Jean came into the Library of Congress disguised as a photographer, and went to the second-floor balcony. She realized that the right balcony was one story above her, but that balcony was closed off to the public. However, thanks to a nice employee, she got to the third floor balcony, and started setting up the camera to take a picture. Halfway through setting up the camera, she put her hands into a frame shape, and walked sideways over to the section of the balcony that Chris showed her. Unfortunately, this section of the balcony was blocked off by a wall, but she could get to it if she hung off the balcony and jumped back into the blocked off room. She decided to turn around the other way, still pretending to be looking for a good shot. This way, the employee watching her couldn't see her.

Jean went all the way around the balcony with her camera, and ending at the other wall of the blocked-off room, and started setting up the camera again. She looked both ways, making sure that no one was watching her, pretending to be "framing the shot" again. When she was sure no one was watching her, she started to take the picture, and shot it. Then, still making sure no one was watching, she hung over the balcony, extremely carefully, moved over to the room, and slid back onto the floor. She was in the XY room. She looked for XY234786's location, found it, and started removing the books from it. There it was, the six-digit combination lock. She used 234786 as Riley's book described, and nothing happened.

"Maybe they changed the code," she whispered to herself. "Should I call Chris?"

She decided to try the code again. She heard a click, but no compartment opened.

She tried pulling it open, and it turned out it was stuck.

Meanwhile, a guard saw the camera with nobody by it, and it was, for some reason, next to the blocked-off room. He started going upstairs to check it out.

Jean simply couldn't get this thing to work. She heard someone going up the stairs. She banged on the bookshelf, and out came the Book of Secrets.


	6. Opening the Book

"What kind of an idiot is our President?" Jean took the Book, and placed it on the balcony just where she might be able to reach it from the other side. She climbed back onto the balcony, and while she was coming back to the other side of the balcony, there was a Library of Congress guard.

"Excuse me, Miss," he said, "Just what are you doing?" He helped her get back onto the balcony.

"Thank you, sir," Jean replied. "I was just trying to find a good shot for a photograph."

"Well, please have more common sense next time, okay?"

"Absolutely, sir."

"But if you please, that room is off-limits to the public."

"Oh, I'm ever so sorry, sir."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Okay, Miss, but I will have to ask you how on earth you got up here."

"An employee let me come here to take a photograph."

"Have you taken it yet?"

"No, I'm still deciding on what shot to get."

"Well, please hurry.

"Oh, yes, sir."

The guard left her. Boy, Jean was relieved. Way too close.

She took her picture and when putting her camera supplies back in her backpack, she took the Book of Secrets along with it. She then left the Library and went to the pay phone again. She called home. It was the answering machine. She decided to just hang up. She drove straight home.

At home, she found a note. It read, "Jean, I went apartment hunting. If you picked up the Book at the Library, leave it on my desk and we'll talk about it later. –Chris"

Jean did just that.

When Chris came home, he had found a new apartment, and would start moving in as soon as possible. He found Jean cooking in the kitchen.

"I'm home, Jean!" he said.

"Oh, Chris!" Jean hugged him. "I picked up your Book." She winked.

"Are you kidding?"

"No, sir, go check it out."

Chris went into his office, Jean following. There was the Book of Secrets, straight from the Library of Congress.

"Jean, I owe you a treasure," Chris said, smiling at her. "Great work."

"Thank you. Now can we look at page 1?"

"Why not? But let's wash our hands first just in case."

They washed their hands and sat in Chris's office, and untied the Book. They were both extremely nervous. Chris let Jean open the Book to page 1.

"Okay, here goes…" She opened the page. The page read:

--

_George Washington, January 1, 1800_

_The value of one is equal to the value of two._

--

They both realized at that instant that their President was not as stupid as they originally thought.

"It's a fake," said Chris. "We should have known."

"Bummer," whispered Jean. "I wonder where the real one is now."

"I wouldn't be surprised if it's at Fort Knox."

"Or the Oval Office."

"Or an Air Force Base."

"Wherever it is, we're not going to get a chance of looking at it. It's pretty much out of our reach right now."

"You never know. If the President needed to look at it because of some major event, maybe we could follow him."

"Sounds like **you're** the one who's planning a criminal act right now."

"Want to work on it now?"

"Sure."


	7. Letters to Gwen

16-year-old Gwen Schumacher came home from pilot school in Twentynine Palms, California. He checked his emails. 3 junk, 1 spam, 2 inbox. Interesting, one was from Christopher Roland, his online friend from Detroit. He opened it.

It read, "Hi, Gwen. Hold on to this. FRXYMUZNMUJGXCEJOZKEXMUTZTCELXFTZWMUJGXAEZBQEDTJYXDOOQENFDTEGZFRXYMUZNMUJGXWQFTEZDXJETTEQZQEBDQGFLBXRJYFLBZDXOJDLEZRMQXDZSENQETXKFSSFMLZ –Chris Roland"

"What the…?"

The next day, he got a letter from Christopher Roland.

"It's about time," he said. He had switched almost entirely to email, and very rarely got paper mail. He had to use scissors to open it. "Let's see how his bank accounts are backfiring." He opened it.

The letter read, "Hi, Gwen. This is Chris. I was hoping you could help me out. Do you like keyword ciphers? _**tinyurl is 5pqedy**_ By the way, once you figure it out, delete that email and burn this letter, okay?"

Gwen figured it out pretty quickly. He typed the address into his web browser, and up came a Ferrari logo, but with tildes and numbers instead of the word _Ferrari_. After wondering for a while, he figured out that this must be a code replacing each letter of the alphabet with letters. He figured out the code, and thought this must be the keyword. He got out a pencil and paper, and started to decipher it. He finally figured it out, and deleted the email and burned the letter. He then started writing another letter back to Chris.

--

_Hello, Chris,_

_I got your letter and email, and got rid of them both. This must be serious, or are you just playing around with me? Anyway, the FAA says I'm not allowed to fly a plane solo until next year, but whatever you're thinking of, I'll do it for you if I can. However, I don't want to keep burning these letters we write to each other, since I'm the one who lives in a desert; you know, it's sort of a fire hazard? Let's meet in person if we have to, unless you don't have enough money to get out here. ;-)_

_Bwelxsncukdnceq_

--

After sending a few letters back and forth to each other, they decided to meet at Boulder City, Nevada's airport, BLD.


	8. To Area 51

They met at the airport entrance. Finally, Chris came.

"Hello," he said. "Nice to meet you again."

"Nice you meet you, too. Is your bank account okay?"

"I told you, it's average. Now, you got your suit?"

"Yes."

"I got mine. Let's go."

"Where?"

"Follow me." They walked a few hundred feet to the skydiving airplane Gwen had prepared. They stepped in, with Gwen in the pilot's seat.

"Wow," said Gwen. "I've never flown a real plane before. Or skydived. You sure you can fly this thing?"

"Oh, just fly the plane to VGT and I'll tell you about this on the way there."

Gwen started the plane and took off. Over the mountains, he could see Las Vegas.

"How you doin', Gwen?"

"I'm okay. So about this secret mission thing? Is this for real?"

"Yes, and you're going to help me with it. Here's what we're going to do." He took something out of his backpack. It was a circular steel plate that had the Seal of the President's Book engraved in the center, and the numbers 12-21-12 written underneath it.

"Yikes, what's that?"

"This," Chris said, pointing to the seal, "is the seal of the Presidential Book of Secrets."

"I know what it is, but what in the world are we doing?"

"We're going to take a look at the Book."

"You mean…wait, I thought this was at the Library of Congress."

"It _was_, but not anymore."

"Yeah, well, you know where it is now?"

"No, but you're going to help me find out."

"Okay, hold on, let me land the plane here."

Gwen started communicating with air traffic control and landed the plane. Gwen and Chris switched seats.

"Okay," Chris told AFC, imitating Gwen, "we're initiating a second takeoff. Skydiving, Arrival in Hiko in 50."

"Fuel?"

"10-4."

"Permission granted."

Gwen took the pilot's seat and Chris turned off AFC communication. Gwen was puzzled.

"Okay, Gwen, there's a skydiving range near Rachel, Nevada. I'm tracking this plane on the GPS. Take this transceiver, keep it on, and I'll provide you with more details. See ya later."

"Wait, man! What the…"

"Gwen, don't worry. You're awesome." Chris left the plane and went into the airport. He took out his transceiver.

"You hear me?"

"Yes, I hear a maniac. I'm taking off now, you sure this thing will work?

"Oh, yes, I'll be driving there, too. Also, this thing works for miles."

"Okay, you better get in that car now. I'm taking off in twenty seconds."

Chris got into his car and saw Gwen's plane take off. He followed it. After avoiding traffic, running through red lights and yellow lights, he got onto US Route 93.

Gwen said, "Chris, you there?"

"Yeah, I'm here. How are you?"

"Freaking out big time."

"Okay, I want you to fly to Hiko, which is..." Chris looked it up on his GPS. "…just north of your location. Land on the skydiving range prepared there and wait for me."

"Okay, so why am I wearing this suit?"

"To skydive, of course."

"Yeah, but I'm the only one on the craft."

"Yes."

"So what am I crashing into?"

There was silence.

Gwen thought for a moment. What was there to crash into in the Nevada desert? "Oh, I understand. This is some big conspiracy theorist trick, isn't it? We're gonna get caught, you know."

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"Come on, I know the only thing to see in the Nevada desert is Death Valley and that Area 51."

Chris picked up speed. "Well, don't you worry about it. Meet with me at Hiko."

"Man, I'm not going through with this."

"Oh, yes, you are."

"Well, I'll try not to get caught, but if I am, you're spending lifetime in jail."

"Don't worry. We're gonna pull this off fine."

They met at Hiko. Chris told Gwen to wait until Chris said he was ready. Then Gwen would take off once more, fly west to Rachel, and turn south. When he turned south, Gwen would turn the plane on autopilot and skydive down to Rachel, where Chris would be ready for him. They did just this.

"Okay, I'm ready to turn south," Gwen said.

"Okay, pretty soon. Keeping going a little more west."

"They're getting suspicious right about now, aren't they? I have a clear view of Groom Lake."

"They can't see you, I hope. If they do, they'd contact your plane right about now."

Gwen got a message from an unknown Air Traffic Control: "You skydiving into our base?"

Gwen said nothing.

"Turn north."

Gwen turned south.

"You messing with our minds, pilot? We're not letting you in, I can tell you that much. Now buzz off before we stop you ourselves."

Gwen did not respond. He got ready to jump.

"Just north of our base, eh? We got personnel watching down there, you better have a good explanation."

No answer.

"We're closing off our runway, so don't even think of landing here."

The runway of Area 51 was blocked off with a type of obstacle, one that no plane could get over.

Gwen turned the plane on autopilot, and got ready to skydive. Chris was waiting for him on the ground.

"If you don't turn around in 30 seconds, you're dead."

Gwen jumped and screamed. His parachute opened, and he landed right by Chris.

"Nice ride, man," Chris said, smiling.

"Dude, they know I'm here. We best run."

They got in Chris's car and drove toward Rachel as fast as they could. They didn't notice that a Nellis AFB guard was watching them from behind the mountain. He saw the plane keep going towards Area 51. "Agent 6, get outta there now!"

The airplane kept going, going, going. It looked like it would at most take pictures of the base, but then there was a gunshot noise, and the plane descended towards Area 51. By this time, every one was out of the base and getting out of the plane's way, and Chris and Gwen were watching the plane with their binoculars.

The plane then crashed.

After it crashed, it destroyed two large buildings, and the plane was destroyed.

Chris and Gwen were watching the crash. Chris flipped a switch on the transceiver. The plane then exploded, setting five buildings on fire, and Gwen could see the steel plate land onto the runway, and a guard went to check it out.

Then there was an evacuation of the entire city of Rachel, and a huge commotion at Area 51. On the way back to Gwen's house in Twentynine Palms, it was on the national radio news.

Chris and Gwen high-fived.


	9. The President Informed

President Steven Bovert was working at his desk, writing letters to the Canadian Prime Minister. A Secret Service agent stepped in.

"Mr. President, Hoffman Air Force Base has been attacked."

The President stopped his work, and stopped smiling. "By whom?"

"Hoffman's reported that a skydiver jumped out of a plane and his plane crashed into Area 51 and exploded. The only thing they recovered is this steel plank." He handed the President a photograph of the plate. The President took it and examined it.

"Do you know what 12-21-12 means?"

"We were thinking you might."

"No, I don't. Is the FBI working on it?"

"Yes, sir."

"What do they know?"

"All they know is your seal."

There was a silence. Another Secret Service agent stepped in. "Sir," he said, "we've done a simple Google search on the numbers, and we've found that they lead to a conspiracy theory about the Mayans."

"What does it lead to?" asked the President.

"The end of the world."

"Hmm."

There was another long silence. Then, after examining the photo some more, the President asked what was lost.

"Just some aircraft, buildings, and five workers. Three others were injured."

"What are the names of the five who were lost?"

"I'll get them for you."

"Thank you."

The agent left the room, and came back with a paper with the names on them: Kurt Bundy, Jeff Chophel, John Langman, John Mall, and Kathryn Rowsell.

"Guys," Dr. Bovert began, "I must visit the Langman family in Baltimore. Can you fly me over there?"

"Yes, sir."

"First, I will be giving a speech about this, so get the Press Room ready."

"Yes, sir."

The Press Room was set up, and the media was all ready. The President stepped out on national television.


	10. In the News

Jean was at her apartment watching the local NBC 29 News on WVIR, when it was suddenly interrupted by the Emergency Alert System.

"Oh, how I hate that sound!" she screamed.

A message then marqueed across the screen: "THE UNITED STATES IS NOW IN A STATE OF EMERGENCY: A RUMORED TERRORIST AIRCRAFT HAS FLOWN INTO HOFFMAN AIR FORCE BASE IN NEVADA, DESTROYING VALUABLE MILITARY AIRCRAFT AND RESEARCH AT AROUND 4:30 PACIFIC TIME THIS AFTERNOON. THE BUILDINGS ATTACKED WERE PART OF A CLASSIFIED AREA KNOWN AS "AREA 51". EYEWITNESS ACCOUNTS SHOW THAT THE CRAFT FLEW THROUGH TWO BUILDINGS AND A BOMB EXPLODED, DESTROYING THREE OTHER STRUCTURES. FIVE PEOPLE WERE KILLED, THREE OTHERS INJURED. PRESIDENT STEVEN BOVERT WILL BE SPEAKING SOON AT THE WHITE HOUSE. PLEASE STAY TUNED FOR MORE DETAILS."

"He killed five people," she repeated. "He killed **five people**." She knew his plan, but didn't think he would kill anyone. "Couldn't he be a little more careful?" Then she thought to herself that getting the Book of Secrets would have its costs. She wondered if she should continue with the plan or not. She went to her pet cat London. "London," she asked. "What should I do? Should I trust Chris or not? He's trying to help people, but he just killed five. But if he does get the Book, then he'll help seven billion people…minus five. Oh, but I told him to. It's partly my fault, isn't it, London? Are we the bad guys or the good guys? Well, just because we killed people doesn't make us bad, does it? Or does it? Then again, it was hopefully just an accident. Well, if it was an accident…oh, who am I kidding? I'm responsible for five deaths, and so is Chris. Gwen, too. And what if he doesn't find the Book?"

The EAS sound stopped, some news music started, and the Attack on America logo appeared with the date, June 13, 2008, and an announcer read, "This is an NBC News Special Report. Here is Brian Williams."

"Let's watch," she said.

Brian Williams started. "We've just received word from the White House that the military base known only as Area 51 has been attacked at just 4:30 this afternoon. The President has arrived at the Press Room of the White House to discuss it, and here he is now."

The President then gave a speech about the attack. He believed it was not a terrorist attack but rather a spy plane or a random act of violence. He announced he was going to Baltimore to comfort the Langman family who lost their son John in the crash. Jean noticed that the President didn't seem to show any worrisome or depressed facial expressions, and she wondered why a Baltimore person would get a job at Area 51.

The next part of Chris's plan was for Jean to find out where the President was going. She questioned whether she should or not, but convinced herself that it was an accident, and continued with the plan. She went to Google to do some research. She found out the following information:

**1)** From Google News, she found that the President would be touring Baltimore, and this trip would include trips to the U.S.S. _Constellation_, Fort McHenry, Fell's Point, and the Langmans' household, where he would talk privately with the family.

**2)** From Intelius and Wikipedia, she found that John Langman had no relatives in Baltimore, but the President nevertheless insisted.

**3)** The entire trip would only take one day, and he would then fly to Hoffman AFB to help out.

Chris had told Jean earlier to follow the President so that she might get an idea on where the Book of Secrets is, since the steel plate was supposed to raise suspicion. If the President had seen the plate, he would probably be compelled to search the Book of Secrets to see what the attack had to do with the end of the world. Jean thought that since the President would be in private at the Langhams' house, that it could be a possible location of the Book. She decided that Chris and Gwen must have got away, since there was no report of any suspects on the news, but that minute, more news emerged.

Brian Williams interrupted Duncan McNabb to report that an anonymous Area 51 guard had reported the license plate of the car of the skydiver: An Arizona plate, GHT7326. It was reported to be from a rental car, and citizens were asked to look for it. The finder would receive a reward of 1,000,000.

"Hey, there's my treasure," Jean thought. She laughed. "No, this is not the time to be selfish, stay focused."

--

Meanwhile, Chris and Gwen were listening to the news on the radio. They heard, "We now have more news that the license plate number of…" Chris immediately pulled over and turned the car 180°.

"Gwen!," yelled Chris. "Run to the trunk and cover the license plate with your legs! I'll be right out."

Gwen ran out of the car and did just that. He got the trunk of the car open. Chris then came out with a hammer and tore off the license plate. He then threw it over the barbed wire and they both got back in the car. Chris turned the car around and got back southbound on the Extraterrestrial Highway.


	11. The Two Big Threes

Ben and Abigail were at home watching the news, quite shocked. The telephone rang.

"I'll get it," said Ben. He went to go pick up the phone. "Hello?"

"Hello, Ben, this is your old friend Pete."

Ben recognized this voice at once. "Mr. Sadusky, it wasn't me."

Abigail heard this and went to the other phone.

"Well, what do you know about it?" Agent Sadusky asked.

"I found out about it on the news a few minutes ago."

"Peter," Abigail said, "Ben is not involved at all, I'm sure of it."

"Okay, we'll take your word for it, but don't leave town. We might need your help soon."

"Okay," Ben replied. "If you anything, just call me back."

"Well, I'm not the head agent for this case. This is Agent Quist's job."

"Who's Agent Quist?" asked Abigail.

"The agent in charge of the Area 51 case. That's all. Bye-bye."

"Bye." Ben and Abigail hung up. Ben called up Riley's cell phone.

Riley was in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, at a conspiracy theorists convention. He heard his cell phone ring. "Hello? Oh, hi, Ben! How's it g…what?" He could tell something was wrong. "Oh? Who did it? Hmm. Now _this_ is interesting. What do you know about it? **Nothing?** Well, okay. Thanks for calling. Bye." He hung up. He turned to his group he was teaching. "Area 51's just been attacked. Wait a minute…" He called Ben again. "Is this some kind of joke? Oh, fine."

Riley turned to his group again. "Area 51's just been attacked for some weird reason."

"Why?" one student asked.

"I have no idea."

"That's for sure."

"Ha. So you don't believe me? Why don't you Google it for yourself?"

"You didn't even Google it yourself."

"Well, that was Ben Gates calling me."

"Oh, so **he's** the genius, is he?"

"Yes, but so am I."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah, really. Now let's stay focused here."

--

It was 1:00 in the morning. Chris and Gwen had just arrived in Charlottesville. Jean saw their car pull up. She locked the screen door, and opened the main one. She crossed her arms, staring at them. Chris and Gwen walked up to the door.

"Hi, Jean," said Chris. "Did you hear the news?" He tried opening the door, but couldn't. "Jean?"

"Yeah, I saw the news," she responded, still crossing her arms.

"Oh, brother, what happened? Come on, let us in."

"You've found an apartment, haven't you?"

"Yes, but the previous owners are still moving out, come on! What's going on?"

"You killed five people."

"Yeah, so?"

Jean put her hands on her hips. "_**SO?**_ You are a murderer."

"Hey, man," started Gwen, "it was an accident."

"Well, ma'am," replied Jean, "You're also responsible for arson."

"This was all your idea, Jean!"

Jean smiled and unlocked the door. "Thank you."

"What in the world is going on, Jean?" asked Chris, shocked.

"Oh, I just wanted to see how you boys would handle this."

"What?"

"Forget it. Why'd you bring Gwen?"

"I'm gonna help out with this Book thing," Gwen said.

"Ah, but what _exactly_ are you going to help us with?" she said.

"Sass is one curious thing, isn't it?" blurted Chris. "Come on, let's pick up a bus and go to Baltimore. The President will be starting his tour tomorrow, and want to see where he's going."

"We do?" asked Gwen.

"Yes," Chris said, "if we follow him close enough – but not too close – then we might be able to tell where the Book of Secrets might be. Now Jean, what did you find out?"

Jean handed Chris and Gwen a sheet of paper each with the information she had found out.

"Wait a minute," said Gwen, "the Langmans don't have relatives in Baltimore?"

"Apparently not," said Chris. "This means that the Book must be somewhere in Baltimore. Now, it's either the _Constellation_, Fells Point, or Fort McHenry."

"The most logical of which would be Fort McHenry," said Jean, "since it's the only one that's indoors."

"Actually," suggested Gwen, "what about the supposed Langmans' house? If he's doing it privately, then that _has_ to be it."

"That's not a bad idea, Gwen. But how are we gonna check that out for ourselves?" asked Chris.

"Break in, I suppose."

Jean smiled and said in a high-pitched voice, "But that's illegal!"


	12. Mr President Reads the Book

President Bovert had arrived at the Fort McHenry National Monument Visitor Center. There was a huge crowd at the monument along with him. The National Monument was very excited to have the President visiting, along with the large amount of visitors. They decided to have a tour guide show the crowd (and the President) around the Visitor Canter, even though he was only here to visit the Langmans. The building had already reached its maximum capacity, and the most recent visitors in the guestbook were forced to leave temporarily, and the entrance was closed.

Jean and Gwen had made it through, but Chris was forced out of the building. Jean, not knowing what to do without Chris, asked an employee to let Chris in, since they were a group.

"I'm sorry, Miss, but there are too many on the premises." Just then a family of five asked to leave because of the crowds. The employee let the family go.

"Come on, please?" Jean asked.

The employee stared at her. "One exception." The employee let Chris in.

"Thank you, sir," he said.

"Yeah, sure."

They glanced at each other and then Chris motioned for the three to meet in the gift shop quickly.

"Jean," he whispered. "I want you to get on the tour now. Make sure your cell phone is on, and keep your eyes on the President. Don't get too close, though, or the Secret Service might get suspicious. Get over there now, and cut in line if you have to. When the tour's over, call Gwen. Okay?"

"Okay," Jean said, and took her backpack and ran after the tour guide.

"Gwen," said Chris, "I want you to make sure your phone is on, too, and stay here in the gift shop. If the President comes through here, keep your eyes on him. Got it?"

"Got it. What are you gonna do?"

"I need to use the bathroom. After that, I'll go to the fort." Chris left for the men's bathroom. Gwen stayed in the gift shop, and started browsing. He then heard some sort of struggling. He then saw Secret Service agents come out from the crowd, with President Steven Bovert following them into the bathroom. Gwen couldn't believe it. He sent Chris a text message: "**hail 2 the chief**".

Chris soon responded: "**?**"

"**the prez is in the loo**"

"**omg im rite nxt 2 him1**"

"**dont act susp.**"

"**??**"

"**lol**"

Chris signed out. He was in the stall right next to the one the President was in. Chris nearly laughed when he saw the President's pants go onto the floor.

The President secretly had another pair of pants underneath. He stood upon the toilet, and removed a tile from the wall. Behind it was an alphabetic keypad. The President typed in "DOODLE".

A hidden door, somewhere, unlocked. Chris could barely hear it.

The President gently pressed on the wall behind the toilet, opening the hidden door. Behind it were two flashlights and a flight of downward stairs. The President, as quietly as possible, stepped behind the toilet into the secret room. He took one of the flashlights with him and shut the door behind him. Chris heard this, and heard nothing more. He decided he should get up now. He left the stall, and pretended to be surprised by the Secret Service agents. He then, looking shocked, left the restroom.

The President took his flashlight down the stairs and headed down the passageway into an off-limits room in Fort McHenry. He opened this door. There was the bookshelf from the 2008 XY Room of the Library of Congress. He removed the extra books, and entered the code 234786, and out came the real Book of Secrets.

Dr. Bovert started skimming through the pages of the Book, worried that he might find out something he wouldn't want to know. He couldn't find anything about the Mayans, but he found the page on Area 51. Oh, so that's what Area 51 really is, eh? It couldn't have been in existence that long, could it?

Suddenly the thought occurred to him, "Is this a joke? If _they_ like to fool people, why wouldn't I _not_ be a target? I'm going over there tomorrow, so I'll calm down and check this out." He put the Book back, and started rushing back to the visitor center.


	13. Air Force One

Abigail had just gotten home. She found Ben putting away the groceries.

"Hi, Ben," she said, walking to one of the bags.

"Hi, Abigail," Ben replied, "I went shopping for you while you were at work."

"Thank you," she said. She looked into a bag, and pulled out a box of toothpaste. "What is this?"

"Oh, that's toothpaste."

"I know it's toothpaste, but why did you get a different kind?"

"Uh…wh…the…I don't know."

"We share the same bathroom, Ben. You know that I always get Colgate Total, and this is Colgate Sensitive."

"Well," Ben laughed. "Sorry."

"Ben, why did you get a different kind? That's all I want to know."

"Well, I don't know. I didn't know what kind you usually get, or that you would even care."

"Ah, it's not that I _care_ about it, it's about which kind I _need_."

"Well, it's still toothpaste, right?"

"Yes, but…"

"It's not the right kind?"

"Yes!"

"Toothpaste is toothpaste."

"But I need a specific kind, like you need a specific kind of mansion."

"No, that's different. All homes are different."

"So are all toothpastes."

"No, they are sold exactly alike."

"But they come in different types, Ben."

"Okay, why don't you go to the store and pick out the one you want?"

"Why should I? I just came home from work. Please, Ben?"

"Hmm," Ben said. He got the keys to his car. "You're telling me to go back to the store for you, after I already did this for you as a favor?"

"Yes, but you did it wrong."

"Ha! So I did a favor wrong?"

"Yes, you did, and you know it."

"Well, ex-_**cuse**_ me!" Ben started to leave, when the phone rang. "Oh, I'll get it!"

"_I'll_ get it," said Abigail, and they raced for the telephone. Abigail won. "Hello?" she said. She looked disappointed. She handed the phone to Ben. "I'll get the toothpaste. It's for you. From the President." She left.

"Ben Gates," he said. "Oh, hello, Mr. President, how are y…oh? Oh, um, okay. Yeah, I'll be right there. Bye." Ben hung up. The President had asked Ben to come to Baltimore and join him on Air Force One.

Ben called Abigail to tell her, and Abigail thanked him for checking with her first.

He took the Amtrak to BWI, where he was greeted by Agent Quist, who took him to Dr. Bovert on Air Force One.

"Hello, Ben," greeted the President.

"Good evening, Sir."

"We're going to Area 51. Everything there is top-secret and extremely confidential. Okay?"

"Yes, Sir."

The plane started to take off. The President guided Ben toward the back of the plane, and sat on the sofa.

"I used to work at Area 51," said the President. Ben didn't reply, so the President went on. "I, uh, was wondering why someone would attack it. The only thing going on in there is not harmful at all, so it must have been an act of random violence. But if it wasn't, then there must have been some way that the information regarding Area 51 was leaked out."

"I've only read your Book once, Mr. President, when you gave me the numbers."

"Well, after Riley published his book, I replaced the Book in the Library of Congress with a fake. I've already been back there, and the compartment was empty, so someone has been looking for it."

"Well, I'm sorry, Sir, but I don't know anything about it. If so, I would have heard about it by now." Ben's phone rang. "Hello?" he asked.

"Hi, Ben," said Riley, "um, Abigail said you were with the President?"

"Goodbye, Riley," Ben hung up.

"What did he say?" asked the President.

"He was wondering where I was."

"Oh, I see. Now Ben, you're probably wondering why I'm bringing you with me. Well, it's because they need to talk with you about security. See, there are great deals of conspiracy theorists out there who want to know more about the base, and after this attack, we don't know how to keep people out anymore."

"More guards?"

"Well, because the task is so classified, most people don't want that job."

"Why not surround the whole thing with an Air Force Base?"

"We've been thinking of that, but it still wouldn't prevent more air attacks like this."

"Can you move the base?"

"No way."

"Can you rebuild it?"

"Probably, but the damage has already been done, and most of that information is irreplaceable. Here's one thing I can tell you about the base, but you must not tell anyone else about it ever, okay?"

"Well, only if I need to know." Ben then noticed a mark on the sofa. It was a 14-pointed star with the number 5 in the center of it. He started to ask the President about it, but the President interrupted, "Well, I'll just tell you this." The President leaned closer the Ben, and whispered, "We work for NASA."

Ben and the President talked about security issues all the way to the base, and when they landed, Ben, the President, and the whole Air Force One crew was taken down an elevator into a conference room, where they were asked to wait until a "commander" came in to talk with them.

The entire meeting was about security, and many questions were asked to Ben, as if Ben knew the motive behind the attack, which he claimed he didn't know. And he didn't know.


	14. Escaping Fort McHenry

It was 5:00 PM. The Fort McHenry National Monument and Historic Shrine Visitor Center was closing down. The last security guard was turning off the lights, and ready to go to his house. All the doors were locked, all the lights turned off. He turned the security system to armed mode, locked up, and left. What he didn't know was that there were three guests he had locked in the janitor's closet.

Jean, Chris, and Gwen were inside the janitor's closet. Jean was holding a sledgehammer she had bought from the nearby Home Depot.

"Okay," she whispered, "we're gonna open the door slowly, and walk _very_ slowly toward the bathroom, and go _very very_ slowly into the bathroom, and slowly close the door, and turn on the light in there, and if there are no security cameras in the bathroom, then we'll do some exploring in there. Got it?"

Chris and Gwen said they were ready.

"Okay," said Chris, and he started to slowly turn the doorknob.

"Wait," said Gwen. "Why are we going slowly? All the lights are off."

"Yes," said Chris, turning the doorknob again, "but there are motion detectors here, and if we walk very slowly, they won't notice us."

"Oh, I see."

Chris kept turning the door knob slowly, and it stopped turning. Chris tried pushing the door open, but it didn't He kept trying, but it didn't open.

"Oh, great, we're stuck in here until someone comes to unlock the door, and then we're busted," said Jean, frustrated.

"No," said Gwen, "it's locked, remember? Here, let me try, you moron." Gwen took out a gift card from his wallet and slid it through the lock, and the door opened slowly.

"Good job, Gwen," said Chris, and they all stepped very slowly out of the closet and north through the hall, and into the bathroom, step by step, becoming extremely nervous with every move they made, waiting for the deafening alarms to sound, but they didn't, and once the bathroom door was closed, they knew it had been a success. Now the only thing to do was search for the light switch, and see if any alarms would go off then. If not, then they would go on with the plan. If they did, then they would get out of there as fast as possible, and risk being caught by the efficient Baltimore police.

They all took a big sigh of relief, and started searching for the light switch. Gwen found it, and he flipped it on, startling Chris and Jean.

"Found it," laughed Gwen, and no alarms went off.

Jean gave Gwen a high-five. "Chris," she asked, "What stall is the door in?"

"I think," said Chris, examining the scene, trying to replay it in his mind, "this one." The whole group went into that stall, and looked for a door.

"Okay, I'm going to hammer it now, okay?" asked Jean. The two men stepped back. "Okay," they said, and Jean got ready to hammer the wall. She made one loud hit, and a tile fell of, revealing an alphabetic combination lock.

"Wait, Jean, stop,"" said Chris, moving towards the tile, "what is this?"

"Well, what do you think it is?"

"Well, yeah, but do you have any idea what the combination could be?"

"Um, Chris?" asked Gwen.

"What?"

"We don't need the password; we have a sledgehammer, remember?"

"Oh, yeah. Thanks, Gwen. Go, ahead, Jean."

Chris got out of the way, and Jean got ready to hit the wall again, but Chris grabbed the hammer before she could. "Stop, look at that." Chris pointed out that the cracks from the first hit appeared to have formed a perfect rectangle.

"Is it a door?" asked Jean. She put down her sledgehammer, and she and Chris pushed the central part of the wall, and the "door" flung open, revealing a hidden passage, with two wall mounts, one empty, one with a flashlight. Chris didn't stop to marvel at the discovery; he stepped right in and grabbed the flashlight. He looked around for a switch to it, but there was none.

"Jean?" asked Chris, "do you know how to turn this on?"

"Well, don't _you_ know how to turn it on?"

"Ugh! Well, I would've turned it on by now, right?"

"Well, I'm usually the procrastinator in this family."

"No, you're not. Let's not start a fight here, okay? We'll start a fight when we get home, okay? Now can you please help me out?"

"Try shaking it."

Chris shook the flashlight, and the light came on. He chuckled. "Jean, you're a genius."

"So are you, Chris." Jean and Chris started into the tunnel.

Gwen stepped inside next, and said, "Well, let Gwen just follow the two 'geniuses' around, then."

Walking through the tunnel, they didn't see anything but rocks and dirt. No sign of the Book of Secrets anywhere. They were also nervous about what was on the other end of the tunnel.

"Uh, Gwen?" asked Jean.

"Yes?"

"I always wondered why you're a guy, and you have a female name."

"Oh, that. See, my Internet username is Gwen10040, because I used to live on a Gwen Street in Mohave Valley, Arizona. Eventually, people nicknamed me Gwen online, and that's how people know me on the Internet."

"Oh, I see. It seems kind of weird, though. Can I call you by your real name?"

"I prefer not to reveal it to strangers."

"We commit crime together, Gwen."

"We are not committing crime, Jean," said Chris. "We're just…breaching security."

"Well, _excuse me_!"

The group reached the end of the tunnel, to find a door. Chris opened the door carefully, and the original Library of Congress bookshelf was on the other side.

"We found it!" screamed Jean in excitement, and she hugged Gwen.

"Jean, calm down, please!" said Gwen, pushing her away, and walked to the bookshelf. "Here, Chris, let me get these out of your way." Gwen removed the extra books from the shelf, and Chris did the honors of entering the code 234786, and out came a compartment, holding the President's Secret Book.

"Yes," said Chris, and he took the book out of its case, and put it into his jacket. "Now we go back home, guys. And this means getting out of here somehow. We can't unlock the doors without the alarms going off, and there's a guard at the fort. Any ideas?"

Gwen suggested that they swim across the river, but that would damage the Book.

Jean suggested they just sneak out of the fort, but guards aren't trained to ignore things.

Gwen then suggested they just wait in the passageway until the center opened again, but Jean didn't like this idea, since she was afraid that the flashlight might run out, and there was nowhere to sleep, but Chris decided that this idea was a good one.

"I'm thinking," he said, "that we should close the door in the bathroom."

"Yes, but can we open it again?" asked Jean.

"Good point. Maybe we should just look for a way to escape the fort, and then close the door, and then escape as quickly as possible."

"But all those guards!"

"We might have to create a diversion."

"Are you kidding?"

"I wouldn't joke around at a time like this. Why don't we just throw something at a wall far away from us, so they'll all go look at it, while we run out of the fort."

"How?"

"There's those walls. They're covered in grass or something, so you, Jean, would help us get over it; me first, then Gwen, and then we'll use our combined strength to pull you out. Okay?"

"I'm not that strong."

"No, not when you're nervous. Don't worry, you got into the XY Room, remember?"

"Well, okay, but if I'm arrested, then I'm telling on you."

Chris said nothing, and took a heavy book from the bookshelf, motioned for the others follow him quietly, and they stepped past the shelf and into the opening into Fort McHenry.

Chris whispered to them, "Okay, you two go to the opposite side of this building, while I create a diversion or something. Jean, you help Gwen up the wall, and wait for me." Chris then ran off. Jean and Gwen ran behind the building they were in, and found the "wall" that Chris mentioned, and Jean helped Gwen over. Chris threw the book as far as he could, and ran to Jean as fast as possible. He then heard a big slam, and one guard shone a flashlight on the book, and yelled, "Freeze!"

But Chris was already going over the wall, and Jean let out a huge sigh. One guard heard it, and started walking over to the wall.

Gwen saw the guard coming, and said to leave Jean, but Chris said not to, and Gwen and Chris pulled Jean over the wall quickly but painfully, and Jean let out a small scream. Then the guard shone his flashlight to the team, looking for them. They were hiding behind the wall.

"Run!" whispered Chris, and the team got up and ran northwest to Baltimore. The guard noticed them running, and told another guard by the visitor center to find three young adults running. That guard looked around for them, and found three young adults running to the Patapsco River. "They're heading towards the trucking station! Konnor, Kendra, after them!"

Jean, Gwen, and Chris kept running. They didn't know what to do except they knew they were trying to escape. They ran into the trucking station, and split up, looking for hiding places. The guards ran after them, into the building, looking for them. But the team had already escaped this building by breaking a window in an office, and they saw a train coming. Another guard was running after them. The team ran across the train tracks, and the train blocked the guard from catching them. Jean, Chris, and Gwen high-fived each other, and they caught a bus to the airport, where they flew back to Charlottesville. They had the Book now, and only they knew where it was. Not even the President could find it now. It was time to find some treasure.


	15. Fleeing to Montana

Ben was back from his trip. The FBI removed him from their suspect list, they told him. He was reading Riley's second book, and then he heard the doorbell ring. It was Riley.

"Hi, Ben," he said, "My class has some ideas."

"Come in," said Ben. He, Riley, and Abigail gathered in the dining room to discuss.

"Okay," started Riley, "My class came up with a few ideas about the Area 51 thing. The first says that the aliens involved…"

"Next one, Riley," said Abigail.

"Well fine. The second one says that a terrorist group attacked Area 51 in order to weaken America, because they knew something special was going on in there."

"Okay," said Ben, not believing it.

"And the third one I find most plausible. A conspiracy theorist group flew the plane into the buildings looking for secret information at the base. Either the crash was on purpose, and they got the information, or the crash was unintentional, and they died trying. If the first case is true, then they either escaped unnoticed or they were killed or imprisoned at Area 51. If they escaped, we should be hearing information released very soon, and if they were captured, then the government will stop investigating soon. What do you think?"

"I think you should talk to the FBI."

--

Jean and Gwen were at Jean's house waiting for Chris. He claimed to be buying "supplies". Whatever these supplies were was unknown to Jean and Gwen. After about half an hour, Chris's car pulled up. Jean and Gwen peered out the blinds, and Chris motioned for them to come out to the car. They came out.

"Hi, guys," he said. "Sorry I'm late. I had to get cash, just in case."

"We understand," said Jean. "Now let's see what you got."

Chris pressed a button on his car's remote control and the trunk opened, revealing three backpacks, labeled with each of their names. Jean and Gwen took theirs and tried them on. They were heavy.

"Chris," said Gwen, "what is in this thing? Aren't you in CC debt?"

"Don't worry about that. Inside that backpack are supplies to use when we go hunting for Jean's treasure, whatever that may be."

Jean smiled. "Chris, do you have the Book?"

Chris just stared at her grinning. Jean could trust him.

"Well," said Chris, "this car's gonna take us quite a few places, and just in case the government is watching us, we're going to have to use cash, and lots of it." Chris took out a suitcase from the trunk, and opened it so that Jean and Gwen could see the 51,400 in hundred dollar bills. They were speechless.

"I sold the cheap Matthew Brady photograph, and my house in Detroit. I still have 14,000 in savings, and once we starting finding more treasure, it'll be a great investment. But enough financial talk; get in the car, we're going to Chicago!"

There was only one thing Jean could say: "What?"

"I'll explain on the way. Don't worry. We're not in any trouble at all."

"I…I…haven't…exercised…in ages, Chris. And you're not Indiana Jones, if you know what I mean."

"Yes, I understand. Don't worry, we're a team."

Gwen interrupted. "Chris, I have school tomorrow. I'd love to join you, though, but I can't."

"Oh, I see. Well, that's fine. But don't you tell, okay?"

"Oh, you can count on me. I'm the one who flew the plane." Gwen laughed.

"Okay, we'll call you, okay?"

"Sure. So, I'm going to take a plane home by myself, okay? You keep your money, I'll be fine. See you later!"


	16. Page One?

Gwen flew back home to Twentynine Palms, California, while Chris and Jean made their way up to Glacier National Park in Montana via Chicago, where they spent their first night in a hotel after an extremely long drive. They drove to Keystone, South Dakota, for their next stop, and Jean was already extremely tired, but the next day, they had a large breakfast and a large lunch, and they made it to Shelby, Montana, spent the night there, and hiked up to Painted Tepee Peak the next morning, in Glacier National Park, off-trail, but hidden from the tourists. Jean and Chris sat down on the ground on the top of the mountain, and Chris took the Book of Secrets from his backpack. He placed a cloth on the ground so the Book wouldn't get dirty.

"You ready, Jean?"

"I'm ready."

"All right, we'll start with Page 1, and no more. I'll bet it's by George Washington. It must be good."

"Whatever it is, it's mine, right?"

"Yes."

There was a long pause.

"Just open it, Chris," said Jean, impatiently.

"Um…you open it."

"No, you. Please."

Chris took a deep breath. "Okay." He untied the strings to it, and opened the front flap. Jean was taking photographs of the scenery. It truly was a beautiful place. The Sun was shining spectacularly on the trees, and the clouds were white as snow. It actually might snow later today, although it was Mid-June; June 18, to be exact.

"Jean," said Chris, surprised.

"What's wrong? This is a fake too, isn't it? I knew it!"

"No, it's real, but…"

"What?"

"There's…no…"

"No what?"

"There…with…um…"

"Say it! Stop scaring me!"

"Sorry. There's no Page 1."

"What?"

Chris pointed to the page number, 2. "It skips one, and goes straight to Page 2."

Jean scrutinized the space in between the cover and Page 2. "Weird. It looks like Page 1 has been torn out."

In fact, Page 1 was torn out.

"Oh, well," said Chris. "I don't know what happened. It looks like this tear isn't recent, and I still think we can trust Gwen."

"Well, can we just read Page 2?"

"Hey, why not?"

Chris started to read Page 2, from top to bottom. "Monday, Eighteenth of September, Seventeen Hundred and Ninety-Seven, John Adams…"

"You could have just said 1797."

"Don't blame me, blame John Adams."

Jean laughed. "Sorry."

Chris continued, "I received this book from the firft Prefident George Washington…what?"

"That's _first_, not _firft_."

"He wrote the _s_'s with _f_'s. Weird."

"Keep going. Don't stop."

"I'll try." Chris kept reading. "…the **first** Pre**zzz**ident George Washington when I became Pre**z**ident many months ago. Washington is Freemason, and hiding a trea**zh**ure. Sworn to secrecy, as you, the reader is. Received secret letter from Spain today, placed on rever**s**e of Lan**s**downe portrait. Plea**s**e place this art in the Man**s**ion when it is complete." Chris closed the Book, and tied it again, and started packing up. "Well, Jean, what do you think?"

"Well," said Jean, "can you write 'Lansdowne'?"

Chris spelled the word for Jean to write in the notebook in her backpack. "Where's the nearest computer?" she asked.

"There's a campground at the base of Painted Tepee Peak; maybe one of them has Internet access here."

Chris and Jean were packed up, and went back down the mountain on the Two Medicine Pass trail, and entered the campground, where they met a ranger who let Jean use his computer with Internet access. She googled "Lansdowne", and there were too many different results. Jean then googled "Lansdowne portrait", and the image results displayed a famous portrait of George Washington. She clicked the top link, and asked the ranger if she could print the page out, and the ranger said only one page. Jean printed the page, and even though it turned out black-and-white, it had plenty of information, she thought. Jean thanked the ranger, and gave the paper to Chris, who looked it over.

"Oh, Jean!" he said.

"What? What?"

"This painting was saved by Dolley Madison in the War of 1812."

"Really? Who's Dolley Madison?"

"Who cares? She saved it when the White House was being burned by British, so she must have known about the letter, since she was James Madison's wife."

"Cool. But you know what's not cool?"

"What?"

"The letter is on the back of the portrait."

"Ah, don't worry about it. Let's just go back to the hotel. Jean, you're awesome."

"Thanks. You too."

"Thanks."

Chris and Jean headed back to the hotel, and started making plans.


	17. The Lansdowne Portrait

While Chris and Jean were at the Comfort Inn in Shelby discussing the letter on the back of the portrait, they were keeping the local Channel 6 Beartooth NBC station on, just to be safe. Well, it turns out that was a smart thing to do, because as they were discussing ideas, more information about Area 51 was revealed.

"We're in big trouble," said Chris, when he discovered how stupid he was for trying to outsmart the FBI. "They're not going to stop trying."

"I thought you told _me_ not to worry about it, and now you're scared?"

"You're right. Just turn it up."

The news revealed that the Arizona license plate was revealed to be from a rental car from Lake Havasu City, Arizona. The cashier claimed to not remember the face of the customer, but a sketch of the customer was shown on TV, based off of the security camera video. It was also revealed that the 21-year-old customer's name was Colin Sharrd.

"So far, so good," said Chris. Chris's trick had been not using a credit card, but using a fake ID instead. He also lied about his age.

"Another good thing is that the sketch doesn't look too much like you," replied Jean, being optimistic for the first in a long time.

"You're right, so it looks like we're safe?"

"Hopefully. You think our plan works out?"

"Yes. And, on the plus side, it's legal."

"For once."

--

Chris and Jean started their drive to the District of Columbia that afternoon, but only made it as far as Casper, Wyoming. They were in a hurry, just incase. They couldn't call Gwen for fear that someone was listening in on calls in that area. They emailed Gwen in Lexington, Kentucky, the next day. They made a quick stop at Jean's home in Charlottesville to check their emails and unpack a few things. Gwen had responded, asking to keep him updated in the original keyword cipher. Chris taught Jean the keyword and how the cipher worked, and Jean replied to Gwen with "GDLBEQXFSZKYXKFGGJEZLDKE".

Chris set up an appointment with the director of the National Portrait Gallery in Washington for the next morning.

--

And that next morning, Chris and Jean got a room at the Quality Inn Iwo Jima in Arlington, emailed Gwen about the plan, and went to the National Portrait Gallery to meet with the museum director.

When they arrived, they were almost immediately greeted by the director. He was in a great mood, and almost too energetic for them.

"Hello!" he said. He shook both of their hands. "I'm Martin Sullivan, director of the National Portrait Gallery, and it's great to see you here. Come to my office?"

"Sure," said Chris. "We were w…"

"All right, this way, please." They followed him into his office, where they sat down, ready to talk. "Well," said Mr. Sullivan, "how can I help you?"

Jean said, "Thank you for meeting with us."

"You're welcome."

"We were wondering," said Chris, "if we could get a photograph."

"Of what?"

"Um…does this museum have the Gilbert Stuart painting of George Washington?"

"Which one?"

"Um…the…there's more than one?"

Martin laughed. "You didn't know? Well, that's fine. Yeah, there are two at this museum. One's called the _Athenaeum_, and the other's called the _Lansdowne_."

"_Lansdowne_!" Chris and Jean shouted at the same time.

"Oh, I see you've been searching for that one. Well, we have lots of photographs available."

"Yes, sir, but…well, you see, we need a unique photograph," said Chris.

"Oh?"

Jean started to explain. "Well, we're in need of a photograph of the Lansdowne portrait, but…"

"But what?"

"Um…how much would a photograph of the…reverse of the painting…cost?"

"The reverse?" Martin laughed. "Are you serious?"

Chris and Jean didn't show any signs that they were joking. Chris told Mr. Sullivan that they would be willing to pay whatever amount it would cost to get the photo.

"Well, guys," he said, "that's pretty much impossible."

"Impossible?" asked Jean. "It's impossible to take a picture of the back of a painting?"

"Do you know how delicate those paintings are?"

"Extremely, but aren't there specialists for that sort of thing?"

"Well, I'll see what we can do, but this will cost you guys thousands of dollars."

"Anything you say, sir," said Chris. "We'll be in the area for a few days."

"We'll pay you right now if you'd like," Jean added.

"Oh, that won't be necessary, guys, but I'll have them do it for at least 5 grand."

"We'll pay you 8 grand!" said Chris.

"Deal."

They shook hands, and Jean wrote down their hotel's telephone number and their email address. They kept emailing Gwen about what was going on. Three days later, they got a call.

"Hello?" Chris answered the phone.

"Hi, Mr. Roland, this is Martin Sullivan."

"Oh, how are you?"

"I'm fine, thank you. I have a question for you."

"Yes?"

"Why did you want a photo of the back of the painting?"

"Well, for a replica."

"Uh-huh. Well, I've sent a digital photo of the back to your email address. Go check it out and if you can, come to the museum so we can give you the real photo, okay?"

"Sure. See you later today! Bye."

"Goodbye."

Right when Chris hung up, Jean knocked on the door.

Chris looked through the peephole, and saw Jean holding a color printout of a document. He opened the door.

"What's that?" he said, excited.

Jean was overly excited. "I just got this is our email. It's the letter on the back of the portrait. It's so old; I had to run it through…"

"Shh, come in."

"Oh, right. Sorry." Jean stepped in, and Chris locked the door.

"You were saying?"

"Oh, yes. Um, I had to run it through Snipshot to get the words legible. Even now, I can't read it. I don't even know if it's in English."

"Let me see." Chris examined the photograph. "Jean, could you call Mr. Sullivan, please? Just talk with him."

"Sure."

Upon scrutinizing the picture, the letter seemed to be in Spanish. It read:

_**A John Adams de América.**_

_**Estamos necesitados. Por favor, no informe. Necesitamos buques de ayuda para nuestros de conquistadores en América del Sur, Isla de Pascua, en la búsqueda de oro y plata. Estoy en una situación desesperada necesidad. Por favor comuníquese con nosotros dinero por buques. Somos amigos pacíficos.**_

_**Yo El Rey.**_

Chris could see that it had something to do with conquistadors in desperate need of something, and these conquistadors were in South America.

"Chris," said Jean, still on the telephone, "we're going to the museum later day?"

"Yes. I bet he wants answers."

"Well, he's totally shocked."


	18. Headed to Easter Island

Chris and Jean pretended to not know anything about the Spanish letter, and paid the museum 8,000.00 in cash, which was very suspicious, but the museum accepted it. Chris and Jean thanked Mr. Sullivan, who gave them credit in the newspaper in return. Chris and Jean went back to the Quality Inn to start packing up, and they flew back home after lunch.

They had run out of clues. They now needed someone else to help them. Gwen wasn't available until Saturday the 20th. Chris and Jean decided to fly to Twentynine Palms to meet Gwen.

On the 20th, Gwen was available, and they met at Joshua Tree National Park, and talked while hiking on a trail by Keys View.

"So, what are conquistadors?" asked Gwen.

"They were Spanish Catholics who came to the Americas trying to evangelize the natives," Jean answered.

"Oh, okay. So they needed money to go to Easter Island?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Well," said Chris, "when they came to the Incas, they discovered gold and silver, and they took as much of it as they could, and became obsessed with treasure hunting."

"But why Easter Island? That's not Inca."

Jean interrupted, "No, not really. They were probably just looking there."

"Why there? They would've known it wasn't Inca."

"I don't know; ask them." Jean then turned to taking photographs of the view.

"Well, there's obviously something going on at Easter Island, right?"

"Yeah, probably," Jean wasn't paying attention; she was taking a picture.

"So…what was going on at Easter Island?"

"Yeah, probably…"

"Jean!" said Chris, "please play attention. Gwen, you're right. Something must have been going on there. Do you know what language they speak there?"

"No, why?" asked Gwen.

"Because we're probably going to have to go there."

Jean heard this, and screamed a bit. "We get to go to Easter Island? Oh, it's so beautiful there…"

"Jean!"

"What? It is!"

"Yes, but we're trying to find treasure or something. We're not tourists dancing all over the world."

"I understand, but still, Easter Island!"

"Well," said Gwen, "I don't know why we'd want to go, other than looking around. There were no clues in the letter."

"Well, there could have been," said Jean. "We just might not know it yet. Hey, Chris, you think there's some hidden message in the letter?"

Chris didn't know. "Well, I don't know how there would be one. I don't remember anything from the Book of Secrets either."

"Shh!"

"Oh, right. Sorry."

"Chris," said Gwen, "maybe we already have enough information. Maybe we should just go and look around, and while we're there, we just take all that we know so far, and put it together on the spot."

"What?"

"I'm saying, no, _suggesting_ that we all fly to Easter Island, and bring the clues we've had so far. This includes the printout of the letter, the Book of Secrets…"

"No. Not the Book."

"O…kay. We should just bring the printout and the translation. Also, there's probably tour guides over there, and scientists, and archaeologists, so we'll be fine. What do you think?"

"How long can you be away from home?"

"Um…only today and tomorrow, I think. But maybe…"

"Let's go. Jean, Gwen, get in the car; we're going to the airport."

"Whoa, Chris!" said Jean. She had never seen him this determined. True, they had broken into Fort McHenry, and destroyed Area 51, but this was the first time that Chris had made a decision that quickly. They were off to Easter Island!

--

The team made their way to Palm Springs, where they took a flight from PSP to IPC on Easter Island, via MEX in Mexico City and LIM in Lima. When they arrived, it was 1:30 in the morning, so they had to rent a hotel. This entire trip to the island cost them about five thousand dollars, but they still had about 40,000 left to spend. They got a room in a hotel, and were very tired, but there was only one bed.

"Wait, dude," said Gwen, "there's only one bed."

"Chris," said Jean, very sleepily, "I'm not sleeping in the same bed with two guys, especially a 16-year-old boy."

Gwen was already on the bed, "Then don't," he said.

"Gwen, I'm not sleeping on the floor, either."

"Then don't."

"Get off the bed, Gwen, and I won't have to hurt you."

"Jean!" yelled Chris.

"Okay, I don't mean that. It's just been such a long trip, and now I have to share a bed with this…"

"Genius? No, you don't **have** to."

"Well, someone has to sleep on the floor, and it's not going to be me." Jean leaped onto the bed, trying to knock Gwen off, but it didn't work. "Get off, please, Gwen."

"Guys," said Chris, "I'll sleep on the floor tonight. I don't want to sleep in the same bed as my sister anyway."

"Oh, thanks, Chris, and now what about Gwen?" said Jean, staring right at Gwen.

Gwen turned away from Jean, trying to find a comfortable position. "Jean, I'm not sleeping on the floor, either. So just live with it."

"Yes, Jean," suggested Chris, "please just do it for tonight."

Jean turned away from Gwen. "Gwen, if you come over here, you're dead in the morning."

"Same to you, Jean," he replied.

"Guys, just go to sleep," said Chris, laying out a few blankets on the floor. "We've got a big day tomor…later today. Just keep your clothes on, and you'll be fine, guys."

"We're near the equator in summer, and you want me to keep my clothes on?" yelled Jean.

"Jean, please be quiet. Do you know that seasons are reversed when you cross the equator? Don't worry."

Jean sighed, and went back on the bed. She couldn't stand it for too long, but Gwen was already asleep.


	19. Hello?

The group got some quick horse-riding lessons in the morning, and started riding to the Moai statues laid all over Easter Island. And, of course, Jean was having the best time, and although Chris said to not bring her camera, her phone had one already.

The group started at various Ahu, groups of Moai, starting with Ahu Tahai around 9:00 AM. Chris, Jean, and Gwen, the only ones with clues, didn't know where to look for more. Gwen even suggested that the Moai heads _were_ the treasure, but Chris wanted to keep looking. After finding nothing at Ahu Tahai, the group rode their horses northeast to Ahu Akivi. When they arrived, Jean wanted to secretly take a picture of this world-famous Ahu. When she turned on her phone, it rang.

Chris heard, and looked at Jean. "Who's that?"

Jean checked the caller ID. "Casp-ca? 1-4-3-4-9-7-7-9-0-4-1. Oh, 434 is Charlottesville's area code." Jean answered the call. "Hello?"

A very serious female voice answered. "Hello. Are you Jean Roland?"

"Um, yes, that's me."

"Where are you?"

"Wait, who is this?"

"I'm an SPCA officer. A cat was found unattended in your home with a dirty litter box."

Jean had given London huge food and water dishes to last a week, but had forgotten about the litter box. "Oh, London! Tell him I'm sorry."

"Will do, ma'am, but where are you and how soon can you get here?"

"I'm on, uh, 'vacation' in South America, but I'll be back as soon…"

"Ma'am, we're going to have to hold the animal until your return."

"Yes, officer."

"When should we expect you?"

"Um…I'll be there by Tuesday afternoon."

"Okay. Goodbye, ma'am."

"Bye." Jean hung up, worried for her cat.

"What's going on, Jean?" asked Gwen.

"It was Charlottesville-Albemarle SPCA; they found London unattended," said Jean, quite angry at herself. "He'll be fine."

Neither Chris nor Gwen said anything. They kept on riding their horses to the following Ahu. At Ahu Vinapu, Gwen's phone rang.

"Hello?" he asked.

"Hi, Lewis. Where are you?"

Gwen looked around; making sure no one heard his real name. "Hi, Mom. I'm with Chris Roland on a business trip. I'll be back tonight."

"Where are you?"

"Easter Island."

There was a moment of silence. "Where's that?"

"You don't know where Easter Island is?"

"Please just tell me."

"Okay. It's in Chile."

"Where's Chile?"

"**Are you kidding, Mom?**"

"Lewis…"

"Chile's a country in South America that runs along the Andes Mou…"

"South America?"

"Yes, Mom; I'll be back home tonight."

"You get back here right now!"

"Mom, come on, you've met Chris, haven't you?"

"Who?"

"Mr. Christopher Roland. He's investing in my…"

"I don't care, what's he doing in Andy's Mountains? And if he's going bankrupt, then why's he wasting his money on trips like this? Virginia's fine, and so is Baltimore, but this eastern island is crazy. Get back here now, you have school tomorrow, remember?"

"Yes, Mom, I told Chris that…"

"Lewis, you told me you wouldn't go crazy."

"Don't worry, Mom. I'm going back to the airport in half an hour, okay?"

"Okay, but you better be back here in time to get some decent sleep."

"Yes."

"Bye, Lewis. Don't scare me like that again, please!" Gwen's mom hung up.

Chris was quite puzzled by what just happened. "What just happened, Gwen?" he asked.

"Ah, my mom's calling me to come back home to teach her geography. I gotta leave in about an hour, sorry."

"Oh, that's fine," said Jean, "We understand, right Chris?"

"Yes, Gw…" Chris's phone rang. "Yikes." He picked it up, wondering who it was. The caller ID was strange. "Hello?"

"Hello, Nick. Just wanted to tell you that those rich Mexicans I got across the border are being held at my house in Las Cruces, New Mexico. Got the password?"

"Um…I think you have the wrong number."

The caller did not respond. Chris heard a scream in the background, and he hung up, a bit freaked out.


	20. Tukuturi

Gwen had left for California already, and Chris and Jean were on their way to Rano Raraku, an Ahu located around a volcanic crater lake. The Moai head statues here were not really arranged in any particular order, and many were toppled over, broken, buried, and sometimes even upside-down. There were many tourists and a few archaeologists in this area. Chris and Jean decided to get off their horses and examine these Moai heads on foot.

After about twenty minutes, Jean found one statue that seemed unique from all the others. Most of the Moai were only heads, but this statue was the entire body of – Jean thought – a really obese human. What Jean also noticed was that this Moai was kneeling toward something.

"Why is this one kneeling?" she thought. Jean looked in the direction that he or she was facing. There was nothing.

"Wait a minute; this dude must have been bowing to _something_." She kept staring at the view, and realized something: something happened to these statues. They were almost all buried or knocked over by dirt.

"Must've been ages ago," thought Jean She pictured a volcanic eruption taking place at this location. "No, this isn't lava, it's dirt, mud, or sand," she kept telling herself.

Then she got it.

--

Chris heard his name being called excitedly in the distance.

"Jean?" he called. Jean was running toward him, and then motioned for him to follow her. Chris followed Jean to Tukuturi, "The Kneeling Moai".

"What is this?" he asked.

"It's a statue, what did you expect to see here?" said a tourist behind him.

"Thank you," Chris said sarcastically, and he rolled his eyes. "Jean, what's so special about this one?"

"Well," she said, nearly out of breath, "this dude is bowing to something. But there's nothing there."

"O…kay."

"Wait, there's more." Jean took a deep breath. "Okay. Now, see all these other Moai? They're all lopsided or something. So, I was thinking that there was a mudslide or something from this volcano that pushed everything to the side, and the thingamabob that this dude was bowing to is now buried somewhere around here. Eh?"

Chris sat down and thought for a moment. Finally, he said, "I'm gonna buy some metal detectors online." He got his laptop out of his backpack and ordered two high-quality metal detectors to be shipped the following day to Easter Island. This cost Chris about 4,500, but the machines arrived at their hotel the following evening, and once they were assembled, Chris and Jean got shuttle tickets to go to Rano Raraku that morning, and Jean slept on the floor that night.

They were metal detecting for about an hour that day, when a Rapa Nui National Park Ranger showed up. "¡Oye! ¿Qué haces?"

Chris didn't know much Spanish. "Uh…¿qué?"

"¿Qué?"

"¿Qué?"

"¿Qué?"

"Um…¿Inglés?"

The ranger shook his head. "What…are…you…going?"

"We…are…exploring."

"What?"

"We are…looking."

"For what?"

"For metal."

"Metal?"

"Sí."

"Please do not."

"Yes, señor."

The ranger left, and Chris and Jean came back to detect at night. Chris was searching at the base of the mountain, while Jean was searching by the lake on top. Occasionally they found bits of money left by tourists, and they didn't even know if they were allowed to dig. Chris was going in a zigzag, and his detector started going crazy. According to the readout, it was buried at least five feet deep, and they night get caught if they dug that far. But the readout did say that it was made of silver, whatever it was. Chris notified Jean, who used her GPS to write down its exact coordinates, and the two went back to the hotel.

At this time, they had only slept about five hours out of sixty. Chris left Jean on the bed to rest while he went to the vending machine to get some Coke.

When Chris arrived, there was another man there, shaking the machine.

"You know, sir," said Chris, "it's kind of dangerous to shake it like that."

"Ah, I know, kid," said the man, "it's just that I've wasted about ten bucks on this thing already, and nothing's coming out."

"You speak English, eh?"

"Yep. I'm an archaeologist from Arizona. Just here with a photographer studying those heads. You know which ones I'm talkin' about, huh?"

"Yes. I'm from Virginia. I'm just here to get some Coke to wake up, but it looks like I'll be going to sleep soon. Bye."

"Wait."

Chris turned back. The man shook his hand. "I'm Dr. Scott W. Stenmark. The "W" is for "William". Nice to meet you, uh…"

Chris smiled, "Christopher M. Roland."

"Mr. Roland. What are you here for? Vacation?"

"Actually, I'm an…uh…amateur archaeologist, sort of."

"Oh."

"Do you know if you're allowed to dig in the park?"

"Oh, no. Probably not, but then again, you're allowed to touch the statues, which is crazy. You have any idea how delicate those things are? Geez."

"Yeah. It's also disrespectful to stand on the Ahu."

"Yep. But they still do it anyways."

"Any**way**."

"Sure, whatever." Dr. Stenmark laughed, and then turned and whacked the soda machine, and two Cokes came out. "Hey, cool! Want one, Chris?"

"Yes, thank you." Chris took the soda, and started reaching into his wallet.

"Oh, no, consider it a favor."

"Okay. Hopefully this'll wake me up for tomorrow."

"Ugh. Tell me about it; I've got to get a picture of a sunrise here, and I'm beat."

Chris and Scott talked for a few minutes, and then Jean came out.

"Hi, Chris, who's this?" she asked.

"Oh, hi, Jean. Dr. Stenmark, this is Jean. Jean, Dr. Stenmark. He's an archaeologist."

"Nice to meet you, sir," said Jean.

"Nice to meet you, Ms…"

"Roland. I'm his sister."

"Oh, a family vacation, eh?"

"Actually," said Chris, "we were just here to do some…"

"'Amateur archaeology', I know. Ha! No such thing."

"Oh, really?" asked Jean. "Could you help us with something, then?"

"What?"

"We were metal detecting, and we found some silver thing at Rano…"

"Jean, please. I don't want to get in any trouble," said Chris.

"Wait," interrupted Scott, "you found something silver? Where?"

"At Rano Raraku, we can show you. Can you help us get it out?"

"Well, I've got some legal rights here. I bet we can find it."

Chris was a bit uncomfortable. "Excuse us," he said, and pulled Jean into the hallway. He started whispering. "Are you crazy? If he knows where this thing leads to, you might not get this treasure after all. And he might take most of the credit."

"He seems like a nice guy. I think we can trust him."

"You want to tell him what we've done? Now we're going to have to shut him up somehow."

"Well, we can sneak away the thingamabob before he knows too much, right?"

"Ohh, good idea."

Chris and Jean returned to Dr. Stenmark, and he agreed to help them dig up the artifact the next afternoon.


	21. An Empty Compartment

Ben was working on the budget when his cell phone rang. The number was 4-876-672-4347, and the name of the caller was "CLASSIFIED". He picked it up. "Hello?" he asked.

A disguised voice answered, "Is this Ben Gates?"

"Yes."

"What do you know about 12-21-12?"

"Mm…never heard of it before."

"I need your help. This is the President."

"Yes?"

The voice was then switched back to normal. Ben could now recognize President Bovert's speech, but he seemed worried. "A steel object was recovered at the Area 51 crash. On it was the secret Book symbol, with the number 12-21-12 below it. I checked the Book for it, but found nothing." The President was silent for a while. "Could you look for me?"

"Yes, Sir."

"You'll find it in the Fort McHenry visitor center bathroom, behind the first stall. Look for a keypad behind a tile; the password is 'doodle'. Got it?"

"Yes, Sir. I'll be there today."

"Okay, and Ben, hurry!" the President hung up.

--

Ben brought Riley and Abigail to Baltimore, where the visitor center was still open. The three of them entered the first stall, and found a few tiles broken on that wall.

"So, what are we looking for?" asked Abigail.

"The President said there was a keypad behind one of these tiles," Ben replied.

"Why are those broken, down there?" asked Riley.

"Looks like someone…else…" Ben thought for a moment. "…has been here."

"Oh, no," said Abigail, and she pushed the wall, and the door swung open. "Someone's broken in here." The team ran into the passageway with their flashlights, and found the XY bookshelf from the Library of Congress. Ben entered 234786, and the compartment opened, empty.

Abigail gasped. Not one of them could understand. Ben got out his cell phone and redialed the number the President called him from. The number didn't work.

"Oh, man…" Ben called Agent Sadusky.

"Quick! Look for clues!" said Riley. "Maybe the Book is somewhere else around here."

"Where else would it be?" asked Abigail. It was true; there wasn't much else in the room besides the bookshelf. Then Abigail noticed something: a page on the floor of the room. She picked it up gently. It was written by George Washington, and it was numbered 1. "Riley, do you know what this is?"

"It's a letter?"

"No, it's the first page of the President's Book."

This got Ben's attention. "What did you find?" he asked. Abigail handed him the page. Ben read the page.

--

_**Tuesday, Twenty-ninth of December, Seventeen Hundred and Eighty-nine, George Washington.**_

_**Written here are instructions to presidents regarding this book.**_

_**Component the First: This book shall be written only by, read by, and used by the President of the United States, past or present.**_

_**Component the Second: This book shall be considered no more than a lark to those outside of the presidential household.**_

_**Component the Third: Any information deemed not practical to others shall be written in this book, if known only to the incumbent President.**_

_**Component the Fourth: This book shall be passed to the presidential successors on the evening preceding their inauguration. If the incumbent has traveled to the Supreme King earlier, a trustworthy person in that president's household shall give the book to the heir.**_

_**Component the Fifth: This book shall be kept in a disclosed site known only to the incumbent.**_

_**I, George Washington, will now start this tradition. A decade, three years, seven months, and eight days ago, was the fourteenth of July, Seventeen Hundred and Seventy-Six. I and four other members of the Continental Congress ordered Elizabeth Ross in Philadelphia (the city to soon be our new capital city) to sew a flag designed by us five members. The original design is drawn here, but Ross modified it because she claimed she could sew faster if the mullets were simpler. My mullets I inherited from Clement the Fourteenth, who said to incorporate them into the design, but he no longer is in the papacy, and still has no authority over me or anyone, which none in that atrocious group ever shall.**_

--

"Why are all the S's F's?" asked Riley. "And what in the world are mullets?"

"Well, script in the 1700s used S's in the middle of words that looked like today's F's," answered Ben, "but I have no clue what mullets are."

"Does it lead to treasure?"

"I don't know."

"Well, it's in here for some reason," suggested Abigail. "Didn't the President give you his secret email address?"

"Let's go. Riley, can I use your laptop in the car?"

"Sure," said Riley, "but hold on to that page."

--

Ben emailed the President with the secret email address given to him at Cíbola, explaining what they found: an empty compartment. The Book of Secrets was in unknown hands; good or bad?


	22. Horse Chase

In the morning, Jean, Chris, and Scott were all digging together at the exact spot Chris's metal detector found something yesterday. Dr. Scott Stenmark, an archaeologist, had gotten permission to dig in that area by Rapa Nui National Park on one condition: Anything found would be the property of the Chilean government. Of course, neither Chris nor Jean liked this agreement, but it was the only way to get to the next clue (that is, if there was one), and they didn't want Scott to know what they were searching for anyway.

After over two hours of digging, Jean's shovel hit something. Tourists started crowding around them, wanting to step past the rope fences to see what was found. Clearly something important was being discovered, since these three people were digging vigorously. Chris was not comfortable at all with so many people watching, and was especially uneasy when they started getting out their cameras. He temporarily stopped digging, walked to the crowd, and said, "Please no photography or video; this is confidential." That took care of the English-speaking people (most of them left), but about a third of the crowd spoke Spanish, and recorded video anyway.

"Why is this confidential?" asked Scott.

"It's big and it's silver. I wouldn't want everyone to know that."

"Oh, what language is that?!" said Jean, trying not to scream as the first symbols on the artifact were being revealed.

"Wow, that _is_ something!" exclaimed Dr. Stenmark, and he motioned for Chris and Jean to stop digging.

"What?" asked Chris. "Why are we stopping?"

"I don't know how old that is, but it's most likely very delicate. We better go get some supplies to get it out."

"I have an idea," said Jean, "Chris and I will guard the thingamabob while you go get those supplies."

"Sounds good. I'll be back in, mm, about half an hour. Do you guys know how to use trowels?"

"Uh…"

"Looks like I'll be doing most of the work. See you soon!" Dr. Stenmark headed to his car to go back to his hotel to get the archaeology tools. Chris and Jean decided to dig some more when he wasn't looking.

An American teenage girl asked them, "What are you doing?"

Chris replied, "We're digging more of it so it'll be easier to…what are you doing?"

"Well, this is kind of interesting, you know. What did you find?"

"Oh, just some…"

Jean interrupted, "We found a fossil."

The tourist looked confused. "I thought you said it was silver."

"Well, it's an…iron fossil. It just looks silver."

"Oh."

Jean couldn't believe she bought it. Seriously, an _iron fossil_? Chris and Jean had uncovered most of it. Chris walked over to Jean and whispered, "You think we should take it now?"

"I don't know, Chris, there are lots of people here. But now's a really good time."

"Is that a yes or a no?"

Jean thought a moment. "Yes."

"All right. Get your horse over here. I'll see if I can get it into my backpack."

Jean went to get her horse while Chris took a blanket from his backpack and laid it on the artifact. He started to use his shovel as a scoop, trying to scoop up the artifact underneath the blanket, so the tourists wouldn't see. He then saw Scott's car in the distance coming back.

"Heavy…rock…" he groaned, trying to communicate to the tourists that it was not the real artifact, but some were skeptical.

The same girl asked him, "What's that?"

Chris finally got the artifact into his backpack. "It's a granite rock. Got in the way of the fossil."

"Why are you keeping it?"

"Granite's quite a valuable stone. Besides…"

"Granite's not that valuable. Why is it covered with a cloth?"

Chris couldn't answer that question. Jean came back. "Chris, Scott's coming! Grab the backpack and let's go!"

The crowd was shocked. The girl stepped over the rope. Chris took the backpack and ran. Scott saw Jean and Chris running, with the crowd running after them, and he immediately thought that they were thieves who had scammed him. Seeing them getting on their horses, he ran back to his car.

Jean and Chris took off on their horses, running straight through the crowd, scattering them in all directions. Scott's car, driving on the grass, followed.

Chris saw Scott driving toward them. "Jean!" he shouted. "Let's ride through the heads! He can't follow us there!" Jean turned her horse to the Moai. These statues were so big and heavy; a car couldn't possibly get through them at the speed Scott was driving.

Scott was driving straight after them, trying to figure out what to do, and why he was chasing them in the first place. But he felt that he deserved that artifact, or at least the credit for finding it. The horses turned right. He turned right, and found the Moai. The horses dodged Moai after Moai, and Scott dodged one, and then another. Why were these Moai scattered everywhere anyway? The ancient peoples could've had _some_ sense. The horses then ran through a group of tourists, which Scott might have hit, so he stopped the car, and Chris and Jean headed towards the hotel.

"We got away!" said Jean.

"Think again," said Chris. Two small vehicles that looked like golf carts were driving towards them, with Chile flags on them. "They're rangers, I bet. Ride towards them!"

Jean and Chris rode their horses towards the vehicles, which stopped. Jean and Chris slowed down and stopped. A ranger stepped out of his vehicle and asked, "¿Qué haces?"

Jean didn't know what to say. "Uh…un bandido es…uh…"

"¿Un ladrón?"

Chris and Jean then rode past the cars, but the horses were getting tired. Jean looked back. The cars were turning around, coming back after them. "Chris, we can't keep going! The horses need to rest." The cars were getting closer and closer.

"Jean, keep going, I'll take care of the rangers!" Chris stopped his horse, got off, and ran towards one of the golf carts. The driver of that golf cart slowed down, not falling for another of Chris's tricks. Chris jumped through the window and landed in the other seat of the golf cart. The ranger kept driving, looking straight at Chris.

"Bandido," he quoted, referring to Chris, and laughed. Chris fought with the ranger for a few seconds, and finally pushed the ranger out of the cart. It was a close call, too, as he was about the drive into more Moai. He dodged them, and looked around for Jean, who was still being chased. Chris drove after the other golf cart.

Jean slowed down a tiny bit, knowing her horse couldn't go much longer. She heard the other vehicle coming very fast towards her. She then heard a huge collision, and both cars stopped. She got off her horse, and saw that Chris had knocked over the other golf cart, and the ranger had jumped off quite a few meters away.

"Come on, Jean, let's go pick up London."

Jean got into the vehicle with Chris, and they checked out of their hotel, and flew back home. They thanked the CASPCA for holding London, paid them a small fee, and took the "cat dude", as Chris called him, home.


	23. Emily

"Mr. President, they're here," said a Secret Service agent. President Steven Bovert was sitting at his desk in the Oval Office.

"Bring them in," he said. Abigail, Ben, and Riley entered the room. They and the President sat on the two sofas. "Sir, please leave. This is confidential.

"Okay. If anything happens, you know the signal." The agent left.

There was a moment of silence. "It's gone?" the President finally shouted.

"Yes, Sir," said Riley, very shyly.

"It was there two weeks ago!"

"Someone must have taken it. All we found was one page."

"Who could have possibly…wait a minute, a page?"

"Yes, Sir," said Abigail, and handed him the page. The President read the page for about 15 minutes, until he finally said, "The flag."

"What?" asked Ben. "The flag?"

"The flag of the United States."

"What about it?"

"In vexillology, a mullet is a star. According to legend, Elizabeth Ross, also called Betsy Ross…"

"Yes, we know the legend, Sir, but what about the stars?"

"Well, Betsy's grandmother supposedly taught her how to cut a five-pointed star..." The President pointed to the flag behind his Resolute desk. "…with one cut, which was much simpler to make than a six-pointed star. In other words, the six-pointed star is a clue from the pope to George Washington."

"Oh!"

"What does it lead to?" asked Riley.

"Riley, I don't even know if we have enough financial stability for another treasure hunt. I don't even know if it's necessary."

"She's right," said Ben, "even if we could afford it, we're not looking for treasure; we're looking for Mr. President's Book."

"Well, actually, I was wondering if you guys might be interested in searching for suspects. I have an idea that you guys would be the best people for the job, and we'll pay for everything."

The three talked it over. Ben and Riley thought it was a good idea, but Abigail didn't think so, since it seemed dangerous, but she agreed anyway. Riley had one idea for a suspect.

--

On their way to Walpole, Massachusetts, the group stopped in Baltimore to meet Emily Gates, Ben's mother. She was still a professor at the University of Maryland, but would soon be going into retirement.

They asked her if she would like to join their project.

"I'm sorry," she said, "but I'm not that type of adventurer anymore. Besides, I might slow things down."

"Well, that's fine," said Ben. The group started to leave. "Goodbye, Mrs. Gates," said Riley.

"Goodbye, Riley."

Just then, two younger people with Australian accents accidentally ran into Riley.

"Oh, I'm sorry, sir," said the young woman.

"It's okay, I'm fine," Riley responded, and he, Ben, and Abigail left for Massachusetts.

The young man looked at Emily and greeted her. "Good morning, Ms. Appleton."

"Actually, Mrs. Gates." She smiled.

"Oh, congrytulytions."

"Please, sit down. How can I help you?"

Chris and Jean sat down. Jean said, "I'm Donna Jyrel, and this is Aldrin Rosch. We're exchange students from Austrylia."

Just then, Riley came back in the room and pointed at Chris. "You're Chris Roland, aren't you?"

Chris looked back at Riley, and replied in his normal American accent, "Yes, nice to meet you again."

"Wow! What are you doing here?"

"I'm just thinking of going to this university."

"Oh. Shouldn't you talk to…"

"We already did. We're just meeting the teachers. Nice to see you again, Riley. See you later!"

"Oh, okay. Bye!" Riley left.

Emily was a bit confused. "I thought you were Aldrin."

"Okay, we're really just students here. I'm Chris, and this the Diana. We were wondering if you could teach us some Olmec symbols."

"Oh, well, maybe a few. Maybe you'd like to come to my class tomorrow?"

"Um," said Jean, still in her Australian accent, "you see, we were hoping that you could help us translate a few sentences from Olmec to English."

"Where did you get these sentences?" Emily took the paper with Olmec sentences printed on it.

"We found them on different Olmec heads when on vycytion in Guatemala."

"Oh, I see." Emily looked carefully at the first sentence. What she didn't know was that these were the sentences from the silver artifiact from Easter Island, mixed in a random order so she wouldn't suspect it was a treasure map, if it was. "Well, first of all, these symbols aren't Olmec; they're Incan. And secondly, I have no earthly idea why they would be on Olmec heads, especially as far north as Guatemala. But the first sentence isn't really complete."

"Can you read it, though?" asked Chris.

"Oh, yes, it's easy. The first reads, '**A map of a seahorse.**' The second reads, '**Across the sea.**' The third reads, '**A brave slave thief.**' The fourth reads, '**Gold was taken.**' The fifth reads, '**Angry murderers came.**' The last one reads, '**A sacred valley of silver.**' I don't know what this has to do with the Incas or the Olmecs, but there you go." She wrote them down for Chris and Jean, and they thanked her and left.


	24. Putting it Together

Chris reviewed the sentences. "Angry murderers came. Gold was taken. A sacred valley of silver. Across the sea. A brave slave thief. A map of a seahorse."

Jean tried to put them together. "Angry murderers came, stole gold from a sacred valley of silver across the sea, and a brave slave stole a map of a seahorse?"

"How can someone steal gold from a valley of silver?"

"I don't know."

"Maybe the murderers had a map."

"What's the seahorse?"

"Well, maybe it was a diagram of a seahorse."

"No, that wouldn't have anything to do with treasure. Maybe the slave thought it was a seahorse."

"Why would he or she think that?"

"Maybe it looked like a seahorse."

"Well, I know Italy looks like a boot, and Thailand looks like an elephant…um…"

"Well, what about Vietnam?"

"Wait a minute. These murderers were Spanish conquistadors, so they were looking for treasure. And the treasure was on a piece of land that looked like a seahorse."

"Good, but what kind of land was it? A lake, an island, a mountain, a city?"

"Why was the word 'brave' mentioned?"

"Maybe because the slave was brave."

"A valley of silver must mean a city."

"In a valley."

"Wait. The valley was across the sea."

"No, the murderers were across the sea."

"No, it was the valley, because 'Across the sea' came after 'A sacred valley of silver'."

"Wait. If the valley was sacred, there wouldn't be a city there. Also, the Incas built their cities on mountains like Machu Picchu."

"A sacred valley of silver. A sacred valley of silver. A…river?"

"The Incas had large amounts of gold and silver, but the Incas did not inhabit Easter Island."

"Well, some Incan dude was there sometime."

"Gold was taken. A sacred valley of silver. That doesn't make sense. Maybe gold and silver were taken from a sacred valley."

"That makes more sense. So the Spanish conquistadors came to Easter Island, took…wait. Why did the conquistadors come to Easter Island?"

"To convert the natives to Roman Catholicism?"

"Maybe the treasure was on Easter Island, and they took it away."

"No, the scared valley was across the sea."

"Wait, can there be valleys on islands?"

"I don't know, Jean."

"Because the sea is not from island to island; it's from continent to continent."

"But Easter Island isn't really a continent."

"No, but the valley is on a continent."

"South America?"

"Maybe. Either that or Australia."

"Australia isn't a continent."

"Ugh! I'm not going there again. It's close enough, Chris. The sacred valley is somewhere in South America, and since there are the Andes Mountains, the valley must be next to those."

"Chile, Peru, or…um…Colombia."

"And Ecuador."

"Sure. I'm guessing it's either Chile or Peru. And the Incas are famouser…more famous…in Peru, so I'm guessing that's where the sacred valley is."

"Chris, are we going to Peru?"

"Jean…"

"Sorry."

"Besides, Peru doesn't look like a seahorse."

"That's it!"

"What?"

"We just need to find some place that does look like a seahorse. We should start with the Southern Pacific."

"The Southern Ocean or the Pacific?"

"Ugh! The southern part of the Pacific Ocean."

"Well, there are tons of islands there."

"You've got Google Earth on that laptop, don't you?"

"Well, sure."

"And I'll just download it to mine, and we'll look together."

"We'll be looking for quite a while, but this is your treasure, so all right."

Chris and Jean opened their laptops and started searching on Google Earth for an island that looks like a seahorse.

"One more thing, Chris. I was just thinking. Benjamin Gates would've figured it out much quicker."

--

Later that same day, Ben, Abigail, and Riley arrived at the MCI-Cedar Junction prison in Walpole, Massachusetts, to visit Ian Howe.


	25. Advice from Ian

Ben, Abigail, and Riley had arrived at MCI – Cedar Junction prison in Walpole, Massachusetts. They were here to talk to Ian Howe, since they were sent by the FBI to search for suspects.

"What do you think he'll say when he sees us again?" asked Riley.

"I don't know, Riley," said Ben, "I'm just concerned about what we'll say."

They came to the entrance.

"Hello," an employee said, "may I help you?"

"Yes," said Abigail, "We're here to visit."

"Visit who?"

"We're here to see Ian Howe."

"Ian…" the employee typed a few things into her computer. "Howe? Um, what are your names?"

"I'm Abigail Chase, this is Benjamin Gates, and this is Riley Poole."

"Sorry, but none of you are on his visitors' list. I can't let you in unless you have authorization."

"From whom?"

"An attorney's office, a police department, or a government agency."

"Oh!" Riley said. "She works for the NARA."

"Riley!" Abigail knew that wouldn't get them into a maximum security prison.

The employee googled NARA. "The National Archives and Records Administration? She looked at Ben. "You're the treasure hunting dudes."

"Yes, ma'am," Ben replied.

"Wait. How do you know Ian Howe?"

"Well, he was my friend once."

"Once?"

"Ma'am, we were sent by the FBI. The President, in fact."

"Do you have proof?"

"No, but you can call the FBI and they can tell you."

"Well, okay." The employee called a confidential number, and when she hung up, she gave Abigail a map leading to the visitors' room. She also sent another employee along with them, to make sure things didn't go out of hand. She then called Ian.

--

Ian was sitting in his cell reading a Bible. His telephone rang. He picked it up, "Hello?"

"Sir, you have some visitors."

"Who are they?"

"They're from the FBI. I've sent an officer to send you to the visitors' room." She hung up.

An officer came, opened the door, and led Ian to the visitors' room. He opened the door, revealing the familiar faces of Ben, Abigail, and Riley. Ian didn't know what to think, and he looked at them, not changing his facial expression in any way. He was quite good at that.

They all sat down, staring at each other. No one could find a word to say. After a few minutes, Ian finally looked at the ground, slowly opened his mouth and said, "I'm sorry, Ben. I…we were friends for so long and I…gave it all up for a stupid treasure. I'm sorry."

They were all looking at the ground, not at each other.

Ben responded, "I'm sorry, too. I should have trusted you at first."

"So, are we friends again?"

"Maybe."

"Can you…get me out of here?"

"I don't think so."

"Okay. But Ben, listen: I, I would like to help you."

They finally looked at each other.

"With what?" asked Abigail.

"With finding whatever you're looking for."

"Ian," said Riley, "we're not treasure-hunting."

"Then what are you here for?"

"We…work…for the FBI now."

"Oh, do you? Well, what do you want to know?"

Ben sighed. "We're wondering if you've been…"

"Escaped? Ben, this is a maximum security prison. I couldn't get out of here if tried, which I don't intend to."

"Oh."

"I guess we'll be leaving, then," said Abigail.

"Wait a minute, please. Then how do you explain the back of the Lansdowne painting?"

This got Riley interested. "What?" he said excitedly.

"I was watching the news, and two treasure hunters found a note on the back of Gilbert Stuart's famous portrait of George Washington in the Smithsonian."

"A note?"

"Yes, from a Spanish king to John Adams, regarding some ships looking for treasure in the South Pacific."

Ben was shocked. "How come we didn't know about this?"

"I assumed it was you, Ben. I heard you found the City of Gold and killed some guy."

Ben didn't reply.

"It's not us," said Abigail. "We're here looking for suspects."

"Why don't you check the Smithsonian?"


	26. Schurol, Inc

"This way, please," Mr. Sullivan led Ben, Abigail, and Riley, into his office. "I guess you've heard about the discovery," he said as he was sitting down.

"What discovery?" asked Abigail.

"Thanks to you, Dr. Chase, I am now perplexed. You don't know about this?"

"About what?"

Mr. Sullivan, still confused, explained that two young adults came into his office and paid the museum eight thousand dollars for a photograph of the reverse side of the painting. Abigail took notes.

"Why is this such a big deal?" asked Riley.

"The two young people recently called us and said that they found the Loot of Lima on an island in the Pacific, using directions…" But none of them needed any more details about the treasure.

"What were their names?" asked Ben.

"Um, I think their last names were Roland. They were brother and sister."

"Write that down, too, Abigail. Where are they now?"

"Um, you're going to have to see the media for this. Television, maybe."

Ben called the FBI and let them know about the Rolands. The FBI told them that the two people's names were Steve and Angie Roland, and they found the treasure with the help of a teenager named Evan Schumacher.

"Where was it found?" asked Ben.

"An island named Hiva Oa. It's in French Polynesia."

"Can you talk to them?"

"We tried, but they are not giving any interviews. It may have something to do with the $200,000,000 reward they received."

"I want to talk with them. Where are they?"

"A, they're not talking with nobody. B, they're going to Africa."

"Where?"

Eventually, he found out that the Rolands and Mr. Schumacher had scheduled an appointment with the President of Sierra Leone in that nation's capital, Freetown. He and Riley flew to Freetown to try to meet with one of them.

By the time their plane landed, they received a phone call from Agent Quist.

"Gates, we have more information," she said. "Ms. Roland was given 100% of the finder's fee, and she split it somewhat evenly between herself, Mr. Roland, and Mr. Schumacher. All three of them started a corporation in Sierra Leone called Schurol, which subsequently purchased the three most profitable diamond mines in Sierra Leone. They met with President Bangura and made an agreement, but that information is being kept private. That's about all we know now."

"Is all of this legal?" asked Ben.

"As far as we know, President Bangura is a very trustworthy man."

"That's fine. I still need to talk with one of the treasure hunters, probably Angie Roland."

"Nothing yet. Keep that phone charged, Mr. Gates." Agent Quist hung up.

----

As Ben and Riley went searching through Freetown, they were amazed at the living conditions of the Sierra Leoneans. The nation was recovering from a severe civil war, and the heat, humidity, flooding, and crowds did not help. Ben and Riley felt somewhat guilty staying at an air-conditioned hotel that night.

The next morning, Ben turned on the news. The top story of the day was known worldwide.

President Bangura had signed an agreement with the Schurol Corporation that would give the nation of Sierra Leone a makeover. The Schurol Project, as it was known, would use much of the little profit of the tiny nation to benefit the Sierra Leonean people, starting with boosting tourism.

A museum housing much of the Loot of Lima would be built on an artificial island in Kroo Bay. New markets and stores would be built all over Freetown, and Schurol had just started a design competition for the tallest man-made sculpture in the world. Other plans were being kept confidential until the nation's profits were at least doubled.


End file.
